.ler&  Stationer, 
II  .lose.  Cal. 


U 


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198 

A    selection  f/om 
gand   son  fro^> 


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of  the 

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This  book  is  DUE  on   the   last  date  stamped  below 

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n-m  L  9-5m-7,'22 


-^i«rfl?»- 


«.  • 


STATE  mm  SGtHi.. 

Cm  Aftg«te  Cal. 


•    ^■^^jKJ^O? 


^-^- 


wfAI^&> 


MADAME  DE  REMU8AT. 


STATE  H'JHiV^ALSCno.., 

Los  Angeles  Cal. 

A   SELECTION 


6~ 

FUOM    THE 


LETTErtS  OF  MADAME  DE  EEMUSAT 


TO   HER  HUSBAND  AND   SON, 
FPvOM   1804   TO   1813. 


FROM  THE  FRENCH  BY 

MKS.   CASHEL   IIOEY  and   MR.  JOHN   LILLIE. 


NEW   YORK: 
D.    APPLETON    AND    COMPANY, 

1,  3,  AND  5  BOND   STREET. 

1881. 


COPTKIOnT   Bt 

JOHN    LILLIE. 

1881. 


PREFACE 


Fifteen  years  ago  my  father  wrote,  on  the  cover  of 
the  first  packet  of  his  mother's  letters  which  he  had  col- 
lected, the  following  words : 

"  1  had  always  promised  myself  that  I  would  write  a 
'  Life '  of  jny  mother ;  but  I  now  think  it  will  be  enough 
that  I  should  leave  all  her  writings  in  a  condition  to  be 
published.  I  have  just  re-read  her  letters.  Only  once, 
and  that  thirty  years  ago,  had  I  perused  the  entire  series. 
Occasionally  I  read  a  few  of  them,  but  I  always  adjourned 
the  task  to  which  I  am  now  setting  myself.  By  fulfilling 
this  task,  by  arranging  this  rich  correspondence,  and  throw- 
ing fresh  hght  on  it  by  the  aid  of  other  documents,  I 
am  preparing  a  collection  for  publication,  and  raising  to 
my  mother's  memory  the  monument  most  worthy  of  her. 
I  am  not  sure  that  her  Letters  will  not  do  her  even  more 
honor,  in  certain  respects,  than  her  Memoirs,  which  have 
been  so  highly  appreciated  by  all  who  have  read  them." 

My  father's  death,  or  rather,  I  should  say,  his  life,  his 
cares,  his  labors,  and  the  noble  efforts  which  distinguished 
his  later  years,  prevented  him  from  carrying  out  his  pur- 
pose, and  I  am  under  the  necessity  of  terminating  singly 
the  work  which  we  commenced  jointly.     The  classification 


iv  PEEFA  CE. 

of  tlie  Letters  was,  however,  finished  during  my  father's 
lifetime,  and  this  necessary  detail  was  a  difficult  one, 
for,  in  most  instances,  the  date  of  the  month  or  year  is 
missing. 

In  the  introduction  to  the  Memoirs  of  my  grandmother 
I  have  related  all  that  was  known  to  me  of  her  life  and 
her  feelings.  Without  recapitulating  what  has  been  already 
given  to  the  public  on  those  subjects,  I  think  it  well,  in 
order  to  avoid  encumbering  the  text  with  over-numerous 
notes,  that  I  should  set  down  here  a  few  details,  and  certaiii 
dates,  that  are  necessary  to  enable  the  reader  to  understand 
the  references  made  to  persons  and  events  in  the  Letters 
which  follow. 

Claire  Elisabeth  Jeanne  Gravier  de  Vergennes  was  born 
on  the  Gth  of  January,  1Y80.  Iler  father,  who  had  been 
Intendant,  was  Master  of  Requests  when  the  Revolution 
broke  out.  He  was  the  son  of  the  Marquis  de  Vergennes, 
Swedish  ambassador,  and  brother  of  the  Minister.  His 
mother,  Adelaide  de  Bastard,  was  the  daughter  of  a  Coun- 
cilor of  State,  formerly  President  of  the  Parliament  of 
Toulouse,  and  Chancellor  to  the  Comte  d'Artois.  M.  de 
Vergennes,  his  father,  beheld  the  Revolution  without  en- 
thusiasm, but  without  disi3leasure.  He  was  chef  de  hatail- 
lon  in  the  National  Guard,  and  a  member  of  the  Council  of 
the  Commune  in  1789.  He  died  on  the  scaffold  with  his 
father,  a  few  days  before  the  9tli  Thermidor.  At  the  be- 
ginning of  the  Revolution  he  had  bought  the  estate  of  Ste. 
Gratien,  in  the  Valley  of  Montmorency.  Thither  Mme.  de 
Vergennes  retired,  and  there  she  conducted  the  education 
of  her  daughters:  Claire,  who  became  Mme.  de  Remusat, 
and  Alix,  who,  somewhat  later,  married  M.  de  Nansouty. 


PREFACE.  V 

Augustine  Laurent  de  Reniusat,  born  in  1762,  was,  prior 
to  1789,  Advocate-General  at  the  Cour  des  Comptes,  and 
to  the  "  aides "  of  Provence.  After  the  abolition  of  the 
sovereign  courts,  he  was  delegated  to  Paris  by  his  company, 
to  treat  for  them  in  matters  aifecting  their  interests.  He 
remained  there  when  the  times  became  seriously  troubled. 
He  was  more  secure  in  that  great  city,  where  he  was  un- 
known, than  at  Aix.  There  he  had  known  M.  de  Yer- 
gennes,  he  had  been  received  at  his  house,  and  the  ties 
which  bound  him  to  the  family  were  but  strengthened  by 
the  death  of  M.  dc  Yergennes,  when  his  widow,  with  her 
two  daughters,  and  charged  with  difficult  business  matters, 
stood  in  great  need  of  his  advice  and  society.  He  was 
constantly  at  Ste.  Gratien,  and  he  soon  became  attached  to 
the  eldest  girl,  Claire  or  Clary,  who  returned  his  affection, 
and  whom  he  married  when  she  was  sixteen  years  old,  in 
Pluviose,  year  lY.,  or  February,  1796. 

The  two  children  born  of  this  marriage  were  Cliarles 
Frangois  Marie  de  Pemusat,  born  the  24th  Yentose,  year  Y. 
(March  14,  1797),  and  Albert  Dominique  de  Pemusat,  born 
the  lltli  Frimaire,  year  X.  (December  2,  1801).  We  know 
what  the  eldest  was.  The  second,  four  years  younger,  was 
what  is  called  "  rickety  "  ;  in  his  infancy  he  was  puny,  and 
his  development  was  veiy  slow ;  and  yet  in  his  childhood 
he  showed  no  positive  deficiency,  beyond  a  general  tardiness 
of  development.  He  was  a  little  deaf,  but  he  could  hear ; 
he  articulated  badly,  but  he  could  speak ;  he  was  slower 
tlian  other  children,  but  he  used  to  do  almost  all  that  any 
child  two  or  three  years  younger  would  have  done.  He 
continued  to  progress  in  this  degree  for  a  long  time ;  but 
his   infirmities   increased  little  by  little,  and  lie  remained 


vi  PREFA  CE. 

always  a  cliildc  The  devotion  of  bis  mother  never  flagged, 
and  she  made  it  her  special  task  to  give  him  help  toward  all 
the  development  he  was  capable  of.  It  is  well  known  that 
a  mother  is  equally  fond  of  the  son  who  from  his  birth  is 
her  joy  and  pride,  and  of  the  one  who  can  inspire  only  a 
melancholy  pity.  By  untiring  attention  she  cherished  and 
kept  alive  the  flickering  flame  in  the  fragile  vessel;  she 
taught  him  to  read,  to  write,  to  count,  and  even  to  draw  a 
little  ;  but  she  could  never  lead  his  intelligence  beyond  the 
stage  of  childhood,  though  he  seemed  to  understand  clearly 
that  he  had  fellow-creatures  better  endowed  than  he  by 
nature,  especially  his  brother,  whom  he  loved,  or  rather 
whom  he  revered,  and  who  continued  his  tender  care  of 
him  until  1830,  when  this  poor  young  man,  this  poor  child, 
died. 

Jeanne  Frangoise  Adelaide  Gravier  de  Yergennes,  the 
second  daughter  of  Mine,  de  Vergennes,  born  the  30th  of 
March,' 1781,  married,  when  very  young,  M.  de  Nansouty, 
general  of  cavalry.  He  served  with  distinction  under  the 
Empire,  and  died  in  1815,  at  the  age  of  forty-seven,  leaving 
one  son,  Stephen  de  Nansouty,  who  was  born  the  27th  Mes- 
sidor,  year  XI.  (July  16,  1803),  and  died  in  1865.  Mme. 
de  Nansouty  died  in  1850,  outliving  her  sister  by  nearly 
thirty  years,  so  that  it  was  possible  for  me  to  know  her. 
She  was  a  clever  woman,  energetic  and  brusque,  and 
reminded  my  father  strongly  of  his  grandmother,  Mme. 
de  Vergennes. 

M.  de  Eemusat  became  Prefect  and  Mme.  de  Remusat 
Lady  of  the  Palace,  respectively,  in  1802 ;  the  former  was 
afterward  Chamberlain  and  Superintendent  of  Plays.  He 
remained  at  Court  until  1814,  alternately  in  favor  and  dis- 


PREFA  CE.  yjj 

favor,  niucli  the  same  as  M.  de  Talleyrand.  Mj  grand- 
luotlier  accompanied  the  Empress  Josephine  in  her  retire- 
ment, and  rarely  saw  the  Emperor  after  the  divorce.  Under 
the  Kcstoration,  her  husband  was  made  Prefect,  and  she 
was  with  him  while  he  served  at  Toulouse  and  Lille.  She 
died  in  December,  1821. 

Iler  life  may  be  divided  into  three  periods.  Of  the  first, 
previous  to  her  marriage  and  up  to  the  time  of  her  appear- 
ance at  the  Court  of  Bonaparte,  there  remain  but  sliglit 
traces — a  few  stray  notes  and  some  youthful  compositions 
not  worth  publishing ;  they  afford  indications  of  quickness 
and  cultivation  rather  than  talent.  Ilcr  Memoirs  give  an 
account  of  the  early  years  of  her  life,  as  well  as  those  of  the 
second  period,  after  her  entrance  at  Court.  I  have  no  let- 
ters of  this  period  in  my  possession ;  they  were  not  pre- 
served in  the  family,  for  Mme.  de  Yergennes  was  in  the 
habit  of  burning  those  she  got,  and  Mme.  de  Remusat  was 
at  that  time  seldom  away  from  her  husband.  She  Avent 
with  him  to  Belgium,  and  the  same  year  followed  him  to 
Boulogne,  as  already  described  in  the  Memoirs.  The  earli- 
est letters  noAV  collected  date  from  the  summer  of  1804. 
The  Empire  was  then  decided  upon,  the  Due  d'Enghien 
had  been  shot,  and  they  were  only  waiting  for  the  Pope 
and  the  coronation.  Between  the  months  of  August  and 
October  the  Emperor  and  Empress  paid  a  visit  to  the  Rhine ; 
and  it  was  at  that  time  the  letters  found  at  the  beginning  of 
the  following  collection  were  written. 

I  must  not  abuse  the  privileges  of  an  editor,  nor  overpass 
the  liberties  of  a  writer  of  prefaces,  by  describing  this  jour- 
ney, and  one  made  the  following  year  in  Italy,  where  the 
Emperor  went  to  possess  himself  of  another  crown,  taking 


viii  PREFACE. 

with  liim  all  the  pomp  of  a  Court,  all  the  attributes  of  royal 
state  and  conquest.  It  was,  in  fact,  a  real  Court,  with  its 
wearing  routine,  its  cares,  and  all  the  false  reports,  inevitable 
imprudences,  and  demands  for  caution,  of  Court  life.  If 
the  reader  remembers  the  description  in  the  Memoirs,  lie 
M'ill  readily  picture  to  himself  the  situation  of  the  First 
Chamberlain,  an  odd  enough  sort  of  courtier ;  for  he  was  a 
man  particularly  fond  of  peace  and  quietness,  of  books,  and 
of  tlie  gentle  ties  of  home  life,  but  obliged  to  devote  endless 
labor  to  the  preparation  of  novel  and  splendid /e?!(es,  keeping 
up  with  all  the  demands  of  an  imperious  Court,  and  the 
rivalries  of  vanity  and  ambition.  His  wife,  one  of  the  La- 
dies of  the  Palace,  a  woman  of  sterling  princij^le,  of  elevated 
and  romantic  sentiment,  looking  upon  the  constraints  of 
Court  life  as  sad  inflictions  when  they  came  into  conflict 
w^itli  her  affections,  putting  everytliing  to  the  test,  and  ex- 
pressing her  opinions  with  earnest  zeal  and  sincerity,  was 
condemned  to  strive  for  peace  and  happiness  amidst  all  the 
distractions  of  a  career  of  frivolous  dignity. 

It  would  need  a  Sainte-Beuve  to  describe  these  con- 
trasts and  develop  their  consequences.  To  intelligently 
appreciate  this  correspondence  one  must  enter  thoroughly 
into  it,  and  not  place  one's  self  in  tlie  elevated  sphere 
of  pure  philoso^Dliy  which  permits  the  sacrifice  of  all  to 
the  reason  and  the  heart,  nor  in  the  region  of  mere  actual 
interests,  where  everything  tends  to  the  egotism  of  self-love 
or  cupidity. 

At  this  second  period  of  her  life  she  was  for  a  long  time 
separated  from  her  husband,  who  had  to  accompany  the 
Emperor.  A  little  later  she  was  herself  obliged  to  travel 
with  the  Empress,  and  for  her  own  health.     This  book  is 


PREFACE.  ix 

made  up  from  the  letters  she  wrote  to  her  beloved  husband 
at  this  time.  Such  a  correspondence  is  necessarily  monot- 
onous ;  in  spite  of  a  great  diversity  of  traveling  and  of  ideas, 
the  same  expressions  frequently  recur.  Possibly  the  tender 
effusions  may  appear  a  little  too  frequent  and  detailed,  and 
the  domestic  affection  may  not  possess  the  flavor  of  a  ro- 
mance, but  it  is  necessary  to  preserve  the  true  character  of 
the  letters,  and  the  repetition,  and  even  reiteration  of  senti- 
ment, have  a  charm  of  their  own.  In  no  way  could  the 
warmth  of  heart,  the  intelligence,  and  the  resources  of  the 
writer  be  better  displayed  than  by  her  expression,  so  earnest, 
so  constant,  so  deliberate,  so  ingenuous,  of  a  passion  which 
seemed  to  have  nothing  romantic  about  it. 

The  third  period  of  my  grandmother's  life  extends  from 
1815  to  1821,  from  the  close  of  the  Empire  to  her  death. 
A  new  Government  had  come  in  ;  new  ideas,  or  rather  old 
ones  resuscitated  from  1789,  fired  the  nation,  and  particu- 
larly the  leading  spirits.  Liberal  opinions,  scarcely  dreamed 
of  under  the  Empire,  suddenly  came  into  being  under  the 
force  of  circumstances,  and  the  author  of  the  Memoirs  was 
fitted  by  nature  to  understand  them.  Moreover,  a  new 
influence  sprung  up  cl'ose  beside  her,  an  element  that  was 
zealous,  impassioned,  all-powerful  with  her — her  son,  whose 
youth  fulfilled  all  the  promise  of  his  childhood.  So  a  new 
correspondence  was  begun,  which  proved  even  richer  than 
the  first  one.  Her  husband  received,  after  the  Restoration, 
a  position  better  suited  to  his  tastes.  She  was  no  longer 
separated  from  him ;  but  with  her  son,  now  a  student  at 
Paris,  she  opened  a  correspondence  upon  politics  and  so- 
ciety, which  gives  the  most  original  and  truthful  picture  of 
the   time — a   time   about   which    France    has   not   yet   lost 


X  PREFACE. 

interest,  and  to  whicli  the  liberal  party,  still   in  shadow, 
has  always  referred  its  origin. 

We  shall  concern  ourselves  here  only  with  the  first  part 
of  this  correspondence,  and  with  the  letters  of  the  wife  to 
her  husband  during  the  glorious  but  ill-omened  days  of 
absolute  power.  It  is  possible,  and  indeed  probable,  that 
the  reader  will  not  find  here  what  he  is  looking  for — a  new 
volume  of  the  Memoirs,  with  bolder  expression  of  political 
opinions,  or  piquant  revelations.  Some,  perhaps,  will  be 
disappointed  to  find  only  the  loving  utterances  of  a  good 
and  trae  woman  about  lier  husband  and  children.  Her 
opinions  of  the  Emperor  and  the  Empire,  which  we  have 
seen  expressed  in  the  Memoirs,  were  formed  after  the  pass- 
ing of  time.  Like  all  other  French  people,  she  was  carried 
away  by  the  splendid  achievements  of  the  First  Consul 
and  by  his  genius.  She  was  grateful  for  the  great  calm 
which  followed  the  excitement  of  the  French  Eevolution. 
She  had  no  prejudices  or  ill-will  against  the  Empire;  her 
principles  were  neither  Royalist  nor  Republican  ;  but  it  is 
only  fair  to  add  that,  even  if  her  innermost  feelings  had 
protested  against  this  dearly-bought  glory,  she  would  never 
have  put  the  thought  into  words.  Her  letters  were  written 
with  the  greatest  reserve  as  to  what  went  on  at  the  Court 
and  in  politics.  Under  the  Empire,  letters  were  tacitly 
considered  to  be  sent  open,  and  subject  to  the  Emperor's 
personal  inspection.  "We  shall  observe  more  than  one  proof 
of  this  further  on,  and  it  is  well  known  that  this  abuse, 
"this  cowardly  abuse,"  as  Beranger  calls  it,  was  handed 
down  by  the  uncle  to  his  nephew,  for  there  was  found  on 
the  4th  of  September,  1870,  in  the  cabinet  of  the  Emperor 
Napoleon  III.,  the  copy  of  a  letter  written  by  my  mother 


TREFACB.  xi 

to  my  father  a  few  daj's  before.*  Care  was  therefore  taken 
to  avoid  offending  so  powerful  and  irritable  a  j^ersonage. 
Hence  the  reticence  and  the  omissions  of  this  correspond- 
ence, the  occasional  reflections  made  on  purpose,  and  in 
reality  addressed  to  him  under  whose  stern  and  severe 
observation  those  lines,  written  in  the  intimate  confidence 
of  two  persons  between  whom  there  were  no  concealments, 
might  fall.  Passages  of  this  kind  are,  however,  few,  and  it 
would  not  be  just  to  commend  the  foresight  of  the  writer 
at  the  expense  of  her  sincerity. 

The  political  interest  of  this  correspondence  is  not  its 
strongest  point,  and  the  sentiments  of  the  Lady-in-Waiting 
are  not  exactly  those  of  the  author  of  the  Memoirs  writ- 
ten in  1818,  and  yet,  will  the  effect  of  those  Memoirs  be 
weakened  to  any  extent  by  this  new  publication  ?  I  do 
not  think  so ;  and,  however  strong  my  wish  might  be  to 
augment  the  intellectual  fame  of  those  so  near  to  myself, 
I  would  not  sacrifice  to  that  desire  the  cause  which  we 
have  all  tried  to  serve.  But  these  letters  will  have  just 
the  contrary  effect.  The  life  of  the  Court  or  the  capital, 
as  described  in  them,  can  not  inspire  any  regret  for  the 
regime  that  rendered  that  life  so  troubled,  precarious,  and 
unhappy.  ISTever  has  sounder  proof  been  afforded  that 
the  epoch  was  profoundly  agitated,  that  absolute  govern- 
ment is  the  most  unstable  of  all,  that  its  greatness  wns 
only  in  appearance,  while  every  one  believed  wliile  it 
lasted  that  France  was  a  mere  gambler's  stake,  at  the 
mercy  of  the  liazard  of  the  die.  Never  did  good  patriots 
suffer  more  painful  apprehensions  for  the  destinies  of  their 

*  "  rapiers  Trouves  aux  Tuilcrics,"  etc.,  preiui6re  livraison  iu  8vo.  Paris, 
Iinprimeric  Nationalc,  1S70. 


xii  PREFACE. 

country,  for  the  very  existence  of  France ;  never  were 
wives  and  mothers  so  racked  with  fear  for  their  husbands 
or  tlieir  sons,  as  while  the  fate  of  all  the  men  in  France 
depended  on  the  most  terrible  consumer  of  human  lives 
that  the  world  has  ever  known.  What  are  the  troubles 
of  parliamentary  government,  debates  in  the  Chambers, 
electoral  contests,  and  changes  of  ministry,  in  comparison 
with  perils  and  emotions  such  as  those  of  that  period ! 

It  is  needless  to  say  that  the  text  of  the  letters  and 
the  opinions  of  the  writer  have  been  scrupulously  respected. 
Certain  omissions  have  been  thought  advisable,  but  the 
passages  left  out  refer  only  to  money  troubles,  which 
would  not  interest  the  reader,  to  details  of  health,  the 
shortcomings  of  the  post,  and  the  badness  of  the  roads,  or 
they  contain  repetitions  of  the  feeling  that  pervades  the 
whole,  which  are  suppressed,  lest  they  should  prove  weari- 
some. Enough  has  been  left  to  show  that  communica- 
tions were  difficult,  that  the  much-envied  position  of  the 
great  functionaries  of  the  Empire  included  many  trials, 
and  that  the  health  of  this  active  and  passionate  woman 
was  always  uncertain,  so  that  her  life  in  the  world  and  in 
her  own  heart  was  a  checkered  one,  and  those  who  loved 
her  were  kept  in  constant  anxiety  about  her.  Lastly,  I 
have  thought  it  well  to  suppress  the  greater  part  of  tlie 
passages  that  relate  to  her  younger  son,  Albert,  her  care 
of  him,  and  her  efforts  to  develop  and  instruct  him.  This 
topic  also  would  not  possess  interest  for  the  j)ublic,  al- 
though it  is  right  that  they  should  know  that  her  afflicted 
child  was  the  object  of  her  unremitting  attention.  I  shall 
be  forgiven  for  having  retained  all  that  concerned  her  el- 
dest son,  Charles,  with  its  testimony  to  the  lavish  and  ex- 


PREFACE.  xili 

quisite  tenderness  of  her  affection  for  him.  May  I  ven- 
ture to  add  that  it  has  been  very  sweet  to  me  tlms  to 
unite,  by  a  common  admiration,  a  common  j^assion,  tlie 
first  and  the  last  affection  of  my  father;  the  mother  wlio 
rejoiced  in  his  first  smile,  the  son  who  received   his   last 

look. 

Paul  de  Remcsat. 


INTRODUCTORY  NOTE  BY  THE  TRANSLATORS. 


In  his  preface  to  tlie  "Letters  of  Mme.  dc  Eemiisat,'' 
lier  grandson,  M.  Paul  de  Rennisat,  addressing  French 
readers,  has  explained  his  reasons  for  publishing  in  their  en- 
tirety a  number  of  letters  containing  only  repetitions  of  the 
writer's  sentiments  of  conjugal  affection,  and  complaints  of 
the  pain  inflicted  upon  her  by  the  frequent  .separation  from 
her  husband  that  inevitably  resulted  from  the  position  of  M. 
de  Remusat  in  the  household  of  the  Emperor  IS'aiDoleon  I. 

In  preparing  a  translation  of  the  "Letters  of  Mme.  de 
Remusat"  for  English  readers,  it  has  been  thought  advisa- 
ble to  select  from  among  the  whole  those  that  possess  in- 
terest of  a  more  general  kind. 

The  letters  chosen  with  this  view  depict  the  social 
aspects  of  the  time  (from  1804  to  1813),  give  an  idea  of  the 
condition  of  the  capital  during  the  frequently  recurring 
periods  of  the  absence  of  the  Court,  and  narrate  the  inci- 
dents of  the  writer's  attendance,  at  different  periods  subse- 
(juent  to  the  divorce,  upon  the  Empress  Josephine. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  the  "  Memoirs  of  Mme.  de 
liemusat "  came  to  an  abrupt  conclusion  with  a  deeply  inter- 
esting account  of  the  noble  conduct  of  the  Empress  Jose- 
phine oil  the  occasion  of  the  divorce,  and   a  sketch  of  the 


xvi  INTRODUCTORY  NOTE. 

proceedings  of  tlie  Emperor  Napoleon  I.  with  regard  to 
Spain,  in  wliicli  the  fatahty  that  attended  his  action  is 
already  foreshadowed.  The  letters  do  not  deal  with  the 
political  and  military  events  which  ensued ;  they  are  essen- 
tially intimes  ^  their  interest  is  of  a  dijfferent  order.  That 
interest  is,  however,  of  a  striking  and  novel  kind,  and  can 
not  fail  to  be  appreciated  by  those  readers  who  have  fol- 
lowed with  avidity  the  marvelous  history  of  that  glory  of 
the  French  arms  abroad,  which  was  destined  to  be  so  eva- 
nescent, but  who  have  hitherto  had  little  opportunity  of  ob- 
taining an  insight  into  the  history  of  the  interior  of  France. 
These  letters  will  show  them  Paris  at  home,  in  low  spirits 
and  financial  difficulties,  peiwaded  by  the  dull  discontent  of 
a  i:)eople  in  a  state  of  constant  suspense,  and  the  Court,  no 
longer  brightened  by  the  presence  of  the  sweet  and  gentle 
Josephine,  oppressed  with  gloom,  and  daunted  by  the 
morose  temper  of  a  harsh  master,  whose  luck  had  begun  to 
turn. 

In  selecting  from  among  the  "Letters  of  Mme.  de 
Remusat"  those  which  they  believe  likely  to  have  the 
greatest  interest  for  English  readers,  the  translators  have 
been  careful  to  retain  a  number  of  passages  which  strikingly 
illustrate  the  characteristic  qualities  of  the  writer ;  qualities 
on  which  M.  Charles  de  Remusat  has  dwelt,  in  his  preface 
to  his  mother's  Memoirs,  with  profound  filial  affection,  and 
which  M.  Paul  de  Pemusat  commemorates,  in  his  preface  to 
his  grandmother's  Letters,  with  just  pride. 


CONTENTS. 


I.     To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Aix-la-Chapelle 
II.     To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Aix-la-Chapelle 

III.  To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Alx-la-Chapelle 

IV.  To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Aix-la-Chapelle 
V.     To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Aix-la-Chapelle 

VI.     To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Mayence 

VII.     To  M.  dc  Remusat  at  Mayence 

VIII.     To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Ma)'ence 

IX.     To  M.  de  Remusat  at  JIayence 

X.     To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Mayence 

XI.     To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Vesoul 

XII.     To  M.  de  Remusat  at  5Iilan   . 

XIII.  To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Milan 

XIV.  To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Milan   . 
XV.     To  M.  dc  Remusat  at  Milan 

XVI.     To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Milan  . 
XVII.     To  M.  dc  Remusat  at  Milan 
XVIII.     To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Milan  . 

XIX.     To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Milan 
XX.     To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Milan  . 

XXI.     To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Milan 
XXIX.     To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Milan  . 

XXX.     To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Milan 

XXXIII.  To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Milan  . 

XXXIV.  To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Milan 
XXXV.     To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Milan 

XXXVII.  To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Milan 

XXXVIII.  To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Milan 
XL.     To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Milan 

XLI.     To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Milan 
XLII.     To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Milan 


PAOB 
1 

6 
.       8 

11 
.     13 

17 
.     19 

23 
.     25 

26 
.     28 

30 
.     33 

85 
.     37 

39 
.     41 

42 
.     44 

47 
.     48 

CO 
.     54 

r.7 

.  59 
GO 

.  62 
03 

.  07 
09 

.     72 


xviii 

CONTENTS. 

LF.TTF.B 

XLIII. 

To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Milan 

XLIV. 

To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Milan 

XLV. 

To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Milan 

XLVI. 

To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Milan     ...... 

XLVII. 

To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Strasburg 

XLVIII. 

To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Strasburg 

XLIX. 

To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Strasburg 

L. 

To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Strasburg       ..... 

LI. 

To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Strasburg 

LI  I. 

To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Strasburg 

LIIL 

To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Strasburg  ...... 

LIV. 

To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Strasburg 

LV. 

To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Strasburg 

LVI. 

To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Strasburg 

LVII. 

To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Strasburg 

LVin. 

To  M.  dc  Remusat  at  Strasburg       ..... 

LIX. 

To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Strasburg 

LX. 

To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Strasburg 

LXL 

To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Strasburg 

LXII. 

To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Strasburg 

LXin. 

To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Strasburg 

LXIV. 

To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Strasburg 

LXV. 

To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Strasburg 

LXVI. 

To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Strasburg 

Lxvn. 

To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Strasburg 

LXYIII. 

To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Strasburg 

LXIX. 

To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Strasburg 

LXX. 

To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Strasburg 

LXXL 

To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Strasburg 

LXXIL 

To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Strasburg 

LXXIIL 

To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Strasburg 

LXXIV. 

To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Strasburg 

LXXV. 

To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Strasburg 

LXXVI. 

To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Strasburg 

LXXVIII. 

To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Vienna 

LXXIX. 

To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Vienna 

LXXX. 

To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Vienna 

LXXXL 

To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Vienna 

LXXXII. 

To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Vienna 

LXXXin. 

To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Vienna 

LXXXIV. 

To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Vienna 

LXXXV. 

To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Vienna 

LXXXVL 

To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Mayence 

LXXXVII. 

To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Mayence 

CONTENTS. 

LETTER 

LXXXVIII. 

To  M. 

de  Remusat  at  Mayence 

xc. 

ToM. 

de  Remusat  at  Mayence 

XCI. 

ToM. 

de  Remusat  at  Mayence 

XCII. 

ToM. 

de  Remusat  at  JIaycncc 

XCIII. 

ToM. 

de  Remusat  at  Mayence 

XCIV. 

To  M. 

de  Remusat  at  Mayence 

xcv. 

ToM. 

de  Remusat  at  Mayence 

XCVI. 

ToM. 

de  Remusat  at  Mayence 

XCYII. 

ToM. 

de  Remusat  at  Mayence 

XCVIII. 

ToM. 

de  Remusat  at  Mayence 

XCIX. 

ToM. 

de  Remusat  at  Mayence 

c. 

ToM. 

de  Remusat  at  Mayence 

CI. 

ToM. 

de  Remusat  at  Mayence 

CII. 

To  M. 

de  Remusat  at  Mayence 

cm. 

To  M. 

de  Remusat  at  Mayence 

CIV. 

ToM. 

de  Remusat  at  Mayence 

cv. 

ToM. 

de  R6musat  at  Mayence 

CVI. 

To  M. 

de  Remusat  at  Mayence 

evil. 

ToM. 

de  Remusat  at  Mayence 

CIX. 

ToM. 

de  Remusat  at  Mayence 

ex. 

ToM. 

de  Remusat  at  Mayence 

CXI. 

ToM. 

de  Remusat  at  Mayence 

CXXIX. 

ToM. 

de  Remusat  at  Paris 

cxxx. 

ToM. 

de  Remusat  at  Paris 

CXXXIV. 

ToM. 

de  Remusat  at  St.  Cloud 

cxxxv. 

To  M. 

de  Remusat  at  Paris 

CXXXVI. 

ToM. 

de  Remusat  at  Paris 

CXXXIX. 

ToM. 

de  Remusat  at  Paris 

CXL. 

To  M. 

de  Remusat  at  Paris 

CXLI. 

ToM. 

de  Remusat  at  Paris 

CXLII. 

ToM. 

de  Remusat  at  Paris 

CXLIII. 

ToM. 

de  Remusat  at  Erfiirth 

CXLIV. 

To  M. 

de  Remusat  at  Erfiirth     . 

CXLV. 

ToM. 

de  Remusat  at  Erfiirth 

CXLVI. 

ToM. 

de  Remusat  at  Erfiirth    . 

CXLVII. 

ToM. 

de  Remusat  at  Erfiirth 

CXLVIII. 

ToM. 

de  Remusat  at  Fontainebleau 

CXLIX. 

ToM. 

de  Remusat  at  Trianon 

CL. 

ToM. 

de  Remusat  at  Trianon    . 

CLI. 

To  M. 

de  Remusat  at  Trianon 

CLII. 

ToM. 

de  Remusat  at  Compic^gne 

CLIII. 

ToM. 

de  Rt'-musat  at  Compiegne 

CLIV. 

ToM. 

de  Remusat  at  Compicigne 

CLV. 

ToM. 

de  Remusat  at  Compiegne 

XIX 

PAGE 
172 

,  176 
178 

,  180 
182 

.  18-i 
180 

.  186 
189 

,  190 
192 

,  194 
196 

.  198 
201 

.  202 
203 

.  205 
207 

.  209 
211 

.  213 
215 

,  216 
218 

.  219 
221 

,  223 
224 

,  225 
226 
227 
228 
230 
231 
233 
235 
239 
240 
243 
245 
247 
248 
251 


XX 


CONTENTS. 


LETTER 

CLYI.  To  M.  dc  Remusat  at  Compiegnc 

CLVII.  To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Compifegne 

CLVIII.  To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Paris      . 

CLX.  To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Paris 

CLXI.  To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Paris 

CLXII.  To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Paris 

CLXIII.  To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Paris 

CLXIV.  To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Paris 

CLXV.  To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Paris 

CLXVI.  To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Paris 

CLXVII.  To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Paris      . 

CLXVIII.  To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Paris 

CLXIX.  To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Paris      . 

CLXX.  To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Paris 

CLXXII.  To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Paris      . 

CLXXIII.  To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Paris 

CLXXIV.  To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Paris      . 

CLXXY.  To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Ram  bouillet 

CLXXVI.  To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Fontainebleau 

CLXXVII.  To  M.  dc  Remusat  at  Fontainebleau 

CLXXYIII.  To  31.  de  Remusat  at  Fontainebleau 

CLXXIX.  To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Paris 

CLXXX.  To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Paris      . 

CLXXXI.  To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Paris 

CLXXXII.  To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Paris 

CLXXXIII.  To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Paris 

CLXXXIV.  To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Paris      . 

CLXXXV.  To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Paris 

CLXXXYI.  To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Paris      . 

CLXXXYII.  To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Paris 

CLXXXVIII.  To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Paris      . 

CLXXXIX.  To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Paris 

CXC.  To  Mme.  de  Remusat's  son  Charles  at  Paris 

CXCI.  To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Paris 

CXCII.  To  Mme.  de  Remusat's  son  Chai-les  at  Paris 

CXCIII.  To  Mme.  de  Remusat's  son  Charles  at  Paris 

CXCY.  To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Paris      . 

CXCYI.  Charles  de  Remusat  to  Mme.  de  Remusat  at  Vichy 

CXCVII.  To  M.  de  Remusat  at  Paris      . 


PAGE 

252 
.  254 

255 
.   257 

259 
.  260 

260 
.   262 

263 
.  263 

205 
.  267 

268 
.  269 

270 
.  271 

273 
.  273 

275 
.  276 

278 
.  280 

283 
.   286 

286 
.  289 

290 
.  292 

295 
.  296 

299 
.  303 

306 
.  309 

310 
.  313 

316 
.  318 

321 


LETTERS  OF 

MADAME  DE  EEMUSAT. 

I. 

TO  M.    DK   EEMUSAT,    AT   AIX-LA-CHAPELLE. 

Paris,  10  Fruciidor,  Year  XII. 

{Tuesday,  August  28,  180^.) 

Thanks  for  your  little  note  from  Pont  St.  Maxencc*  It 
was  an  agreeable  surprise,  for  I  had  not  hoped  to  hear  from 
you  so  soon.  "We  are  rejoicing  over  your  splendid  weatlier ; 
I  wish  from  my  heart  that  this  journey  might  be  all  enjoy- 
ment for  you,  and  that  I  could  take  as  my  share  the  annoy- 
ances and  the  ennui  you  must  needs  experience.  Take  care 
of  your  health,  avoid  over-fatigue,  and  try  to  amuse  your- 
self ;  I  want  to  think  that  you  are  happy.  Write  whenever 
you  are  able,  and  tell  me  how  you  are  received.  I  saw  Cor- 
visartf  yesterday,  on  his  return  from  Aix-la-Chapelle ;  he 
wondered  he  had  not  come  across  you  on  his  journey ;  it  is 
true  that  he  traveled  post-haste  night  and  day.     lie  told  me 

*  M.  de  Remusat  was  on  his  way  to  join  the  Empress  at  Aix-la-Chapelle,  in 
order  to  accompany  the  Emperor  on  his  progress  through  the  Rhine  Provinces. 
The  Em|)Ire  had  been  established,  but  the  Imperial  household  was  not  yet  foi-med. 
The  coronation  was  not  to  take  place  until  December.  The  Emperor  did  not  re- 
turn to  St.  Cloud  until  October  12,  1804  (20  Vendemiaire,  Year  XIII.).  Pont 
St.  Maxcnce  is  the  chief  place  of  a  canton  in  the  department  of  the  Oisc,  and 
was  formerly  a  post-town. 

\  Corvisart  was  a  f lieud  of  Mme.  dc  Remusat,  and  her  phvsician. 
1 


2  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  HtMUSAT. 

tliat  the  roads  are  bad  the  other  side  of  Liege ;  you  will  be 
travehng  over  them  to-morrow,  and  I  shall  be  jolted  all  day 
long.  Pray  be  very  prudent ;  remember  to  how  many  per- 
sons you  are  necessary,  and  that  to  me  life  would  be  nothing 
without  you. 

On  Sunday  I  went  to  ^fete  at  M.  de  Valence's,*  where  I 
met  Madame  de  Montesson  ;  Lavalette  f  was  there  too,  and  I 
questioned  him  closely  about  the  state  of  the  roads.  I  can 
not  say  he  relieved  my  mind,  and  those  wretched  Rhine  roads 
are  always  before  me.  By-the-by,  although  I  felt  bored  and 
out  of  spirits  at  this/e^e,  I  could  not  help  smiling  a  moment 
at  the  thought  of  your  expression  of  countenance,  if  in  the 
midst  of  the  verses  addressed  by  the  actors  of  the  Comedie 
Frangaise  to  Mme.  de  Yalence,  and  to  Mme.  de  Montesson 
and  all  her  family,  you  could  have  heard  Mile.  Emihe  Contat  % 
singing  the  praises  of  the  Prefect^  and  informing  you  in 
very  second-rate  meter  that  one  must  not  be  surprised  at 
meeting  with  a  Maecenas  in  the  reign  of  an  Augustus.  All 
the  company  present  were  very  gracious  toward  us  and  ap- 
plauded warmly.  Tears  came  to  my  eyes,  and  I  embraced 
Mile.  Contat.  The  verses  might  be  poor  stuff,  but  they 
were  about  you,  and  harmonized  with  my  secret  thoughts. 
I  dined  yesterday  at  Mme.  de  Souza's,*  to  meet  the  Corps 

*  General  de  Yalence  had  married  the  daughter  of  Mme.  de  Genlis.  He  was 
distantly  related  to  Mme.  de  Montesson,  the  widow  of  the  Duke  of  Orleans,  who 
was  grandfather  to  Louis  Philippe. 

f  M.  de  Lavalette,  Director-General  of  the  Post. 

X  The  name  of  ConUd  has  been  borne  by  three  actresses  of  unequal  celebrity. 
The  first,  Louise  Contat,  who  was  bom  in  1*760  and  died  in  1813,  took  the  roles 
of  the  grandcs  Coquettes,  and  in  1784  created  the  part  of  Susan  in  the  "  Mariage 
de  Figaro."  Her  sister,  Emilie  Contat,  mentioned  above,  was  born  in  1784,  and 
died  in  1846.  For  thirty  years  she  played  the  soubrettes  at  the  Theatre  rran9ais 
with  the  greatest  success.  Her  niece,  Amalrie  Contat,  acted  the  same  parts,  but 
made  no  mark.  The  Prefect  alluded  to  is,  of  course,  M.  de  Remusat,  Prefect  of 
the  Palace. 

*  Mme.  de  Souza,  previously  Mme.  de  Flahault,  is  known  as  the  author  of 
some  successful  novels.  She  was  pretty,  clever,  and  rather  scheming.  Her 
father  was  an  official,  and  she  had  been  married,  first,  to  5L  de  Labillarderie  de 


CHARLES  AND  ALBERT.  3 

Dtjplomatiqiie.  The  poor  ambassadress  was  anxious  and  dis- 
tressed. She  implored  me  to  tell  you  what  occurred;  you 
will  notice  it  or  not,  as  you  think  fit.  She  invited  Mme. 
and  M.  de  Talleyrand  to  dinner.  The  former  declined  at 
once.  He  made  no  reply  until  Monday  morning,  when  he 
sent  word  that,  having  some  guests  dining  at  his  own  house, 
he  could  not  accept  her  invitation.  Mme.  do  Souza  knows 
as  a  fact  that  he  specially  invited  his  company.  This  throw- 
ing down  of  the  gauntlet,  as  it  were,  is  the  first  incivility 
he  has  ventured  on  in  public,  and  she  is  consequently  ex- 
cessively annoyed.  When  I  parted  from  her  she  was  bent 
on  writing  to  the  Emperor.  She  probably  hopes  that  you 
will  mention  the  affair ;  do  as  you  like  about  this.  I  have 
just  heard  that  your  minister  is  to  join  you  at  Aix.  Every- 
thing indicates  that  this  Court  journey  will  be  a  long  one. 
General  Murat  tliinks  that  the  Empress  will  not  be  allowed 
to  accompany  the  Emperor,  and  that  the  latter  will  only  re- 
turn here  a  short  time  before  the  coronation.  But  surely 
your  services  will  be  required  at  the  same  time,  and  could 
you  not  point  this  out  ? 

I  inclose  a  letter  for  the  Empress,  and  one  for  you  from 
Charles,*  who  shed  tears  on  reading  your  message  to  him. 
He  is  tenderly  attached  to  you,  and  I  love  him  the  more  for 
it.  He  prefers  you  to  every  one ;  and  he  is  right,  for  you 
are  very  lovable,  and  my  happiness  is  great  when  by  your 
side.     Our  little  Albert  f  is  better.     You  may  be  sure  that 

Flahault,  and  afterward  to  M.  de  Souza,  a  distinguished  and  bonorable  Portu- 
guese, who  represented  bis  country  as  ambassador  to  France.  Her  intimacy 
with  Mme.  dc  Remusat  was  increased  by  the  fact  that  both  hxdies  resided  very 
near  each  otlier  in  the  Rue  du  Marche  d'Agucsseau.  She  survived  her  liusband 
and  passed  her  old  age  in  penury,  partly  occasioned  by  her  passion  for  lotteries. 

*  My  father,  Charles  Fran9ois  Marie  de  Remusat,  was  born  on  March  14, 
1797.     He  was  at  this  time  seven  years  old. 

f  Albert  de  Remusat,  Mme.  de  Rcmusat's  second  son,  was  bom  in  1802. 
Neither  mind  nor  body  ever  attained  a  full  development.  He  died  in  1830,  at 
the  age  of  cight-and-twenty,  but  with  the  appearance  of  a  sickly  child  of  ten 
or  twelve.     As  I  have  stated  in  the  Preface  to  this  work,  I  have  suppressed 


4  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  BE  R6MUSAT. 

lie  knows  where  you  are,  and  says,  '■'•Papa  is  gone  awayP 
Alas !  yes,  lie  is  gone,  and  I  must  not  look  as  yet  for  his  re- 
turn ;  it  seems  so  far  off  that  I  can  not  think  of  it  without 
tears.  How  hard  it  is  to  be  separated,  when  we  are  so  happy 
together!  But  since  it  must  be  so,  let  us  try  to  arrange 
matters  in  such  a  way  that  we  need  not  part  again.  I  feel  a 
sweet  conviction  that,  after  this  period  of  storms  and  agita- 
tion, our  remaining  years  will  pass  calmly  away,  and  that  our 
life  will  be  peaceful  and  happy.  I  picture  to  myself  a  pretty 
place  in  the  country,  where  we  could  educate  our  children ; 
a  kind  and  beloved  friend,  whose  side  I  should  scarcely  ever 
leave ;  and  la  cava  lihertd.  How  delicious  !  Let  us  labor 
for  so  sweet  a  future,  and  I  possess  already  the  surest  guaran- 
tee of  the  happiness  I  anticipate,  if  you  will  only  take  good 
care  of  yourself.  Adieu.  My  mother  and  Alix*  embrace 
you. 

Wednesday,  11  Fructidor. 

Don't  forget  poor  Mme.  de  Grasse  f  and  little  D'Houde- 
ibi.X  Give  me  an  answer  also  about  Latouche-Treville's  let- 
most  of  those  passages  in  the  Letters  in  which  his  mother  refers  to  him  and 
speaks  of  her  anxiety  on  account  of  his  weak  state  of  health.  She  was  as  much 
engrossed  by  his  unfortunate  condition  as  by  the  brilliant  promise  of  her  elder 
son.  But  it  seems  to  me  that  public  attention  should  rather  be  called  to  the 
latter. 

*  Alix  de  Vergennes,  the  sister  of  Mme.  de  Remusat,  had  married  General 
de  Nansouty. 

•f-  Mme.  de  Grasse,  whose  maiden  name  was  also  De  Grasse,  was  the  wife  of 
an  emigre.  She  had  only  recently  come  to  Paris  with  an  introduction  to  my 
grandmother,  who  received  her  kindly,  and  afterward  became  her  friend.  She 
was  petitioning  for  the  restoration  of  some  property  confiscated  during  the 
Revolution.  Although  a  strong  Royalist,  she  wished  for  an  appointment  as  Page 
for  her  eldest  son.  He  did  not,  however,  obtain  it,  and  entered  the  army  through 
the  school  of  St.  Cyr.  He  was  lieutenant-colonel  of  dragoons  in  1830,  and  sent 
in  his  resignation.  He  and  my  father  were  comrades  throughout  all  their  youth, 
and  more  especially  in  childhood,  and  their  friendship  only  ceased  at  my  father's 
death  in  1860. 

X  This  little  D'Houdetot  is  Henri  d'Houdetot,  a  grandson  of  Mme.  d'Houdetot. 
He  wished  to  be  a  Page,  and  died  in  the  army^ 


M.  DE  SOUZA.  5 

ter,  for  M.  de  Villcblanclie's  *  mother  wants  to  take  the  op- 
portunity of  writing  directly  to  the  Emperor  which  their 
misfortune  affords. 


IL 


TO    M.    DE    REMUSAT,    AT    AIX-LA-CHAPELLE. 

Paris,  I4  Fntc/idor,  Year  XII. 
(Saturday,  September  1,  ISO4.) 

Moil  anil,  to-day  is  Saturday.  I  awoke  sad,  remember- 
ing that  it  is  a  week  since  you  left  me,  and  that  I  must  not 
count  the  days  if  I  wish  to  bear  the  remainder  of  your  ab- 
sence patiently.  My  grief  is  increased  by  just  a  little  anxiety, 
which  will,  I  hope,  have  been  removed  by  the  time  you  re- 
ceive this  letter,  as  I  shall  then  have  had  one  from  you.  I 
am  expecting  to  hear  from  you  to-morrow  about  that  wretched 
road  from  Liege  to  Aix-la-Chapelle,  that  Corvisart  says  is  so 
dreadfully  bad.  He  told  me  you  would  have  to  get  out  of 
the  carnage  and  walk,  and  I  fear  that  perhaps  you  did  not  do 
so.  Perhaps  you  have  forgotten  the  journey  that  engrosses 
my  thoughts  and  are  ready  for  another.  For  my  sake  and 
your  own,  pray  be  careful.  You  will  see  M.  de  Souza  to- 
day, the  14tli ;  he  is  to  present  his  letters  of  credit ;  gloomily 
enough,  I  fancy.  Between  ourselv^es,  he  dislikes  M.  de  Tal- 
leyrand, and  is  quite  inclined  to  take  leave  of  us.  His  wife 
is  very  anxious,  and  begs  you  will  not  mention  what  I  wrote 
to  you  at  her  request,  because  she  has  changed  her  mind  on 
the  subject.  She  begs  only  that  you  will  let  me  know  what 
sort  of  reception  M.  de  Souza  has  met  with,  and  whether  any 

*  The  mother  of  our  cousin,  the  ruined  emigre,  M.  de  Villeblanche,  had  mar- 
ried Latouche-Trevillc.  The  admiral  of  that  name  had  just  died  at  Toulon, 
where  he  was  in  command  of  the  fleet,  v.'hich  was  afterward  put  under  the  orders 
of  Villencuvc  and  beaten  at  Trafalgar. 


6  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  R&MUSAT. 

gracious  expressions,  have  been  bestowed  on  liim,  or  all  liave 
been  reserved  for  M.  de  Lima.* 

You  will  also  tell  me,  for  mj  own  information,  whether 
you  were  satisfied  with  your  reception,  whether  the  Empress 
spoke  of  me,  wliether  she  still  likes  me,  and  was  glad  to  see 
you ;  and  I  will  tell  you  that  Charles  is  well,  and  Albert  much 
as  usual.  This  is  all  my  news,  for  I  have  not  been  out  for 
a  week  ;  I  have  been  rather  unwell  and  have  nursed  myself. 
To-day,  however,  I  mean  to  throw  off  my  laziness,  and  pay  a 
visit  to  Cambaceres ;  then  I  shall  return  to  a  home  which  is 
dull  to  me  now,  and  go  to  bed  early.  My  mother  says 
I  am  very  tiresome,  and  she  is  right ;  at  the  beginning  of 
a  separation  one  feels  acutely  how  easy  it  is  to  become  ac- 
customed to  happiness.  When  we  are  happy,  we  enjoy  our 
blessings  as  a  matter  of  couree;  our  days  slip  by  and  we 
do  not  appreciate  them ;  we  are  spendtlnifts,  and  set  no 
value  on  our  possessions.  But  when  happiness  departs, 
then  we  discover  its  height  and  depth  by  the  weariness 
and  sorrow  to  which  it  leaves  us.  This  is  my  experience ; 
and  I  reproach  myself  when  I  have  lost  you  for  not  hav- 
ing oftener  remembered  what  happiness  it  was  to  pass  my 
life  at  your  side. 

"What  else  can  I  tell  you  ?  I  know  nothing,  and  there  is 
no  news  except  that  there  is  some  grambling  at  the  altera- 
tion of  the  coinage.  As  I  have  just  finished  reading  Daniel,f 
I  shuddered  at  the  repetition  of  a  measure  which  occasioned 
so  many  troubles  to  Philippe  le  Bel,  but  we  have  progressed 
in  our  education  since  those  days.  There  will  be  some  clamor 
and  nothing  more. 

I  have  seen  Mme.  de  Grasse,  who,  on  her  knees,  asks  for 

*  Mme.  de  Souza  feared  that  M.  de  Talleyrand's  enmity  might  cause  her  hus- 
band to  lose  his  post  as  Portuguese  ambassador  to  Paris ;  and  in  fact  this  oc- 
curred. 

f  Father  Daniel,  a  Jesuit,  bom  in  1649,  was  the  author  of  a  History  of 
France  in  seventeen  volumes.  He  published  an  abridged  edition  in  nine  small 
volumes.     The  work  is  little  read  at  the  present  day. 


PETITION  TO   THE  ''PREFECT:'  7 

your  good  offices,  and  Mme.  Parseval-Deschenes,*  who  begs 
you  to  mention  her  son  to  the  successor  of  Latouche-Treville 
as  soon  as  he  is  appointed,  if  you  have  an  opportunity,  direct 
or  indirect,  of  doing  so.  Give  me  an  answer  about  M.  de 
Villeblanche.  Every  one  in  Paris  considers  M.  de  Cercey  the 
only  suitable  person  for  the  place.  Meanwhile  he  has  gone 
to  Nantes  to  join  his  ship. 

You  will  let  me  know  if  you  are  soon  about  to  start  off 
again,  and  whether  I  am  to  send  my  letters  through  the  post, 
or  to  Maret's.  I  saw  M.  de yesterday.  His  daughter- 
in-law  has  arrived  in  a  pitiable  state ;  she  has  constant  con- 
vulsions, and  causes  great  anxiety  to  her  family.  Alas !  what 
is  life  to  her  now,  and  why  do  they  wish  her  to  retain  it  ? 

Adieu.  I  am  ashamed  of  the  pctoffes  f  I  have  written, 
but  I  am  too  melancholy  to  be  pleasant ;  I  can  think  of  no- 
thing but  that  horrid  road,  and  I  am  longing  for  a  letter  to 
set  me  at  ease.  I  am  writing  to  Deschamps,  X  because  I  want 
him  to  write  to  me  about  you.  Adieu ;  I  love  you,  now  and 
always.     M.  Bertrand  *  desires  to  be  remembered  to  you. 

Pray  ask  M.  de  Talleyrand  if  he  ever  regrets  his  former 
traveling  companions,  and  remind  him  that  he  promised  ac- 
counts of  his  journeys  to  Mme.  Devaines  |  and  Mme.  de  Tal- 
houet,"^  and  that  I  claim  my  share. 

*  Mme.  Parseval-Doschones,  widow  of  a  farmer-general  of  taxes,  was  througb 
her  husband  first  cousin  of  Mme.  de  Bastard.  Her  son,  Ferdinand  Parseval,  was 
in  the  navy  and  died  an  admiral. 

f  Petoffes,  an  expression  commonly  used  in  the  family,  signifying  gossip,  scan- 
dal, etc.     It  is  a  Proven9al  word,  and  is  met  with  in  Mme.  dc  Sevigne's  letters. 
\  Deschamps,  secretary  to  the  Empress. 

*  M.  Bertrand  (Dominique),  formerly  a  merchant,  secretary  of  the  Council 
of  Commerce,  was  an  intimate  friend  of  my  grandfather.  He  was  a  clever, 
well-informed,  and  thoughtful  man,  and  very  intimate  with  M.  de  Talleyrand,  at 
whose  house  he  afterward  took  up  his  abode.     He  died  about  1818. 

H  Mme.  Devaines  (Mile.  Racine)  was  the  widow  of  the  Academician,  philoso- 
pher, and  Councilor  of  State,  and  mother  of  M.  Devaines  who  died  a  peer  of 
France.  The  latter  and  M.  Guizot  married  two  sisters,  Pauline  and  Henriette 
Dillon.  The  mother  was  considered  a  clever  woman,  kept  a  good  table,  and  was 
surrounded  by  a  circle  of  distinguished  men. 

^  Mme.  de  Talhouet  was  a  Creole,  and  very  intimate  with  Muio.  Bonaparte, 
who  had  appointed  her  Lady-iu-Waiting. 


8  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  RtMTJSAT. 


III. 

TO   M.    DE   EEMUSAT,   AT   AIX-LA-CHAPELLE, 

Paris,  Monday,  16  Fructidor.  Year  XII. 
{September  3,  ISO4). 

A  THOUSAND  thanks  for  the  kind  exactitude  which  has 
relieved  me  from  deep  anxiety  !  I  received  your  letter  yes- 
terday, Sunday,  at  six  o'clock  ;  I  had  been  expecting  it  all 
day,  and  I  needed  it,  for  my  imagination  was  busy  with  the 
bad  roads  from  Aix-la-Chapelle,  and  I  could  not  repress  tears 
of  joy  when  I  saw  your  handwriting.  Pray  continue  to  let 
me  have  a  line  now  and  then  to  set  my  mind  at  ease.  I 
really  require  it,  for  my  health  is  not  good  enough  to  bear 
up  against  anxiety,  and  your  absence  has  tried  me  very  much. 
I  heard  through  the  Archchancellor  that  the  Emperor  is  only 
to  arrive  at  Aix  ^  to-day,  and  that  you  will  set  out  again  on 
Thursday,  at  latest.  Do  try,  if  possible,  to  obtain  the  nomi- 
nations for  young  De  Grasse  and  D'lloudetot,  and  to  wind 
up  Mmc.  de  Grasse's  business — the  poor  woman  is  in  a  piti- 
able condition. 

I  am  delighted  that  the  Empress  received  you  so  well.  I 
should  like  you  to  have  nothing  but  pleasure  on  your  jour- 
ney, and  would  willingly  keep  all  tlie  disagreeables  for  my- 
self. .  .  . 

I  have  no  news  for  you.  There  are  some  miserable 
rumors  of  war,  and  of  conspiracies  on  the  eve  of  explosion. 
As  for  your  trvpot,\  it  continues  to  be  rather  stupid,  and  I 
have  not  been  there  since  your  departure,  but  I  have  seen 
Maherault.  \     lie  told  me  that  Mile.  Georges  had  asked  for 

*  The  Emperor  joined  the  Empress  at  Aix-Ia-Chapellc  on  1 5  Fructidor,  Year 
XII.,  that  is,  on  September  2,  1804. 

f  Voltaire's  name  for  the  Comedie  Fran9aise. 

X  Maherault,  brother-in-law  to  Legouve,  the  author  of  "  Le  Merite  des 
Femmes,"  had  a  place  in  the  department  of  Public  Education,  and  was  Govern- 
ment Commissioner  at  the  Theatre  Fran9aise.    He  was  prematurely  struck  with 


MME.   DE  SOUZA.  9 

leave  of  absence  in  order  to  go  to  her  djing  father,  but  it 
seems  that  he  must  have  recovered  rapidly,  for  she  is  acting 
at  Amiens.  I  was  not  aware  tliat  the  ladies  of  the  company 
would  be  permitted  to  absent  themselves  thus.  I  went  to  Le 
Yacher  yesterday  about  your  Court  suit,  and  from  all  I  saw 
1  think  the  new  costume  will  be  very  expensive.  Try,  at 
any  rate,  to  obtain  the  Presidency  of  your  Electoral  Col- 
lege,* that  we  may  contrive  to  make  our  way  a  little.  I  saw 
the  Minister  of  Finance  about  your  nephew.  He  has  no 
directorship  to  give  away,  because  he  has  made  up  his  mind 
henceforth  to  choose  the  directors  from  among  the  inspectors. 
But,  by  taking  a  place  as  inspector,  a  directorship  may  be 
had  afterward.  I  am  going  to  tell  your  sister  f  this,  and  she 
shall  dictate  my  reply. 

I  have  told  you  of  all  Mme.  de  Souza's  troubles ;  she  has 
suddenly  warmed  again  toward  me.  She  is  anxious  and  dis- 
satisfied, and  has  good  reason  for  believing  that  M.  de  Lima 
will  remain  here,  while  M.  de  Souza  has  a  great  desire  to 
leave  Paris.  She  wished,  at  first,  that  you  should  interfere, 
but  has  happily  changed  her  mind,  and  is  now  waiting  for 
the  Emperor's  return.  Say  nothing,  therefore,  about  lier 
vexation,  and  write  to  me  in  such  a  way  about  the  audience 

paralysis,  but  lived  to  a  fairly  advancad  age.  Ilis  son  was  a  Councilor  of  State, 
and  the  present  Academician,  11.  Ernest  Lcgouve,  has  written  a  charming 
sketch  of  him. 

*  My  family  owned  an  estate  in  the  Haute-Saone.  My  grandfather  wished 
to  be,  and  in  fact  became,  President  of  the  Electoral  College  of  Vesoul.  The 
Presidents  were  appointed,  both  under  the  Empire  and  under  the  Government  of 
the  Restoration,  by  the  Emperor  and  the  King.  Their  duties  were  to  superin- 
tend and  direct  electoral  operations,  and  they  were  sometimes  proposed  by  the 
Government  as  candidates  for  the  votes  of  the  electors. 

t  Mme.  de  Foresta,  the  sister  of  M.  de  Remusat,  died  in  Provence  in  1825. 
Her  eldest  son,  for  whom  she  sought  a  financial  directorship,  was,  at  his  death, 
a  Councilor  of  the  Court  at  Aix.  A  brother  of  his,  the  Marquis  de  Foresta,  who 
died  in  1858,  played  a  considerable  part  in  the  Legitimist  party.  I  give  nu- 
merous family  details  in  these  early  pages,  in  order  to  show  the  tone  of  the 
correspondence,  and  restrict  myself,  further  on,  to  subjects  of  more  general 
interest. 


10  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  BE  REMUSAT. 

given  to  the  Portuguese,  that  I  may  repeat  what  you  say. 
The  affection  she  shows  for  me  has  made  Gallois  my  friend 
again ;  *  he  is  once  more  quite  attentive. 

Adieu ;  I  must  leave  you  for  Charles's  lessons.  He  is 
very  well,  and  loves  you  as  much  as  ever.  Albert  knows 
your  handwriting.  When  I  show  him  a  letter  from  you,  he 
says,  "  Papa ! "  and  kisses  it.  I  hope  soon  to  give  him  a 
fresh  letter  to  kiss. 

I  don't  know  whether  General  Duroc  is  to  be  told  of  an 
accident  that  hajipened  to  his  wife.f  Do  not  speak  to  him 
on  the  subject  unless  he  has  already  heard  of  it.  Yesterday, 
Sunday,  she  was  driving  in  a  buggy  with  her  brother,  and 
was  thrown  out,  hurting  her  head  a  little.  I  have  just  sent 
to  inquire.  She  has  been  bled  and  feels  well  this  morning. 
There  is  not  the  slightest  cause  for  anxiety.  For  Heaven's 
sake,  don't  get  yourself  thrown  out  on  those  wretched  roads ! 
Come  back  well  and  strong,  for  my  health,  my  happiness, 
and  my  life  depend  on  yours.  My  mother  sends  you  her 
love,  and  says  we  are  a  tiresome  pair. 

Do  not  forget  Halma.:}:  I  inclose  a  letter  from  Eustan  * 
that  I  opened  without  looking  at  the  address. 

*  M.  Gallois  was  a  former  Girondist,  who  had  remained  a  Liberal.  His  en- 
lightened mind  and  an  intimate  acquaintance  with  England  had  attached  him  to 
Lord  Lansdowne  and  his  friends.  He  was  very  fond  of  Mmc.  de  Souza,  and 
remained  intimate  with  her  to  the  end.  He  was  Maitre  cles  Comptes,  and  died 
in  1828. 

f  Mme.  Duroc,  Duchess  de  Frioul,  was  by  birth  Mile.  Hervas.  After  the 
death  of  Duroc,  she  became  Mme.  Fabvier. 

X  The  Abbe  Halma,  librarian  to  the  Empress,  was  tutor  to  my  father,  who 
was  not  sent  to  school  until  the  following  year. 

*  The  Emperor's  Mamaluke. 


PAINS  OF  ABSENCE.  H 


IV. 

TO  M.    DE   REMUSAT,    AT   AIX-LA-CIIAPELLE. 

Paris,  Sunday,  22  Frudkhr,  Year  XII. 
{September  9,  ISO4.) 

Your  orders  have  been  attended  to  at  once.  They  ar- 
rived to-day,  and  the  actors  will  set  out  to-morrow,  Monday. 
I  will  myself  go  with  Maherault  to  M.  de  Lavalette's,  and 
you  shall  have  all  the  tragedies  you  ask  for  at  Mayence  by 
the  28tli,  except  the  "  Cid,"  because  we  do  not  possess  a 
"noble  father,"  but  we  have  substituted  "Horace"  for  the 
"Cid."  I  hope  the  Emperor  will  be  pleased  with  your 
promptitude  in  carrying  out  his  wishes,  and  that  you  will 
therefore  remain  at  the  head  of  the  department  of  his  amuse- 
ments, in  spite  of  all  M.  de  la  Tourette's  speeches  here.  He 
is  trying  to  make  out  that  all  the  Chamberlains  are  on  the 
same  level  as  the  Fii'st^  and  that  he  shares  with  you  the 
direction  of  the  theatres. 

Tou  are  very  good  to  have  written  to  me.  I  was  rather 
disappointed  at  having  no  letter  from  you,  because  it  seemed 
to  me  there  was  time  for  you  to  have  written  between  your 
own  arrival  and  that  of  the  Emperor ;  but  I  have  heard  from 
you  now  and  am  relieved.  Tell  Auguste  *  to  send  me  a  line 
now  and  then.  I  do  not  ask  for  details,  but  only,  "  We  are 
well."  Absence  is  always  pain  to  the  one  who  remains  be- 
hind ;  it  is  great  pain  to  me,  who  am  far  from  you,  while  my 
heart  tells  me  that  I  would  never  willingly  be  parted  from 
you.^ 

You  must,  I  am  sure,  have  been  very  glad  to  see  the 
Emperor.  We  are  wishing  for  him  here,  but  can  not  hope 
to  see  him  very  soon.  It  is  said  that  he  means  to  visit  Bou- 
logne again,  and  the  good-natured  Parisians  suggest  number- 
less evil  motives  for  his  absence.  May  it  be  brief !  May 
W'e  soon  welcome  back  our  good  Empress  and  friend  !    Speak 

*  M.  do  Romusat's  secretary. 


12  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  R^MUSAT. 

of  me  to  lier,  I  beg  of  you ;  tell  her  how  much  I  wish  to  be 
assured  that  she  does  not  forget  me. 

Mme.  de  Vaudemont  has,  at  last,  bought  a  house.  She 
seems  quite  resolved  on  leaving  her  present  abode  before 
winter.  I  had  a  note  from  her  to-day,  promising  me,  within 
a  week,  a  definite  answer  as  to  the  date  of  her  departure.  I 
went  over  her  house ;  it  is  very  convenient,  with  good  offices  ; 
we  should  all,  and  you  especially,  be  very  comfortable  there. 
Mamma  and  I  have  contrived  a  capital  way  of  managing,  and 
with  due  regard  to  the  strictest  economy.  I  attend  all  the 
sales  that  are  going  on,  and  have  seen  some  very  good  bar- 
gains. If  I  could  hope,  however,  that  you  would  soon  be 
back,  I  would  rather  wait  for  you  to  decide  upon  everything. 
It  is  curious  that  I,  who  look  such  a  determined  person,  can 
never  make  up  my  mind,  and  am  always  afraid,  unless  you 
are  with  me,  of  doing  something  foolish. 

In  order  to  have  as  little  to  reproach  myself  with  as  pos- 
sible, can  you  guess  what  I  am  doing  during  your  absence  ? 
I  am  becoming  pious.  I  go  to  Mass,  I  pray  to  God,  and  as 
one  must  love  something,  I  turn  to  Him,  while  waiting  for 
your  return  some  fine  morning.  I  have  found  that  this  is 
the  only  way  of  bearing  the  trials  of  life.  I  worked  myself 
up  to  a  sort  of  enthusiasm,  and — you  will  smile,  perhaps — I 
am  calmer  since  I  have  had  recourse  to  Divine  Providence ; 
besides,  I  pray  for  you,  and  that  is  another  way  of  thinking 
of  you.  In  short,  I  am  in  such  a  state  of  fervor  that  I  be- 
lieve I  shall  even  go  so  far  as  confession,  and,  if  you  stay 
away  much  longer,  I  will  not  answer  for  myself  on  that 
point.  Do  not  imagine,  however,  that  I  have  any  heavy  sin 
on  my  conscience.  My  greatest  fault  is,  in  truth,  that  I  do 
not  remind  myself  often  enough  that  you  are  the  best  of 
husbands,  and  that  I  neglect  opportunities  of  giving  you 
pleasure.  Is  not  the  humility  of  this  avowal  due  to  my  new 
sentiments  ?     I  intend  to  remain  in  this  frame  of  mind. 

Can  you  guess  what  I  am  doing  as  I  wi-ite  to  you  ?  I 
have  surrounded  myself  with  your  letters,  and  I  kiss  them 


REMINISCENCES.  13 

all,  one  after  the  other ;  those  I  received  long  ago,  as  well  as 
that  of  this  morning.  I  have  one  in  my  hand  written  to  me 
when  I  was  as  yet  only  Clary.  It  contains  nothing  at  all 
remarkable,  only  a  commission  you  give  me  from  Paris,  yet 
my  heart  beats  when  I  look  at  it.  Ah !  what  happy  recol- 
lections I  retain  of  those  early  days,  notwithstanding  the 
grief  they  sometimes  brought  me  !  How  greatly  were  my 
sorrows  assuaged  by  the  feelings  with  which  you  inspired 
me  !  You  made  them  endurable.  "What  sweet  emotions  are 
recalled  by  those  days !  My  thoughts  were  of  you  only ;  to 
see  you  for  a  moment  alone,  to  read  your  love  for  me  in 
your  eyes,  were  my  sole  pleasures.  I  remember  what  I  felt 
when  I  saw  you  at  the  end  of  one  of  our  lonely  paths  at  St. 
Gratien.  But  those  days  are  already  far  away.  How  many 
cares  and  anxieties  have  succeeded  to  that  peaceful  time ! 
How  many  quiet  delights  were  showered  by  Heaven  on  our 
youth ! 

I  have  come  to  the  end  of  my  paper,  and  I  have  still 
much  I  could  say  to  you,  but  adieu.  Send  me  word  how 
you  are.  Tell  General  Duroc  his  wife  is  quite  well.  I  have 
seen  her ;  there  is  not  the  least  cause  for  anxiety.  It  was  a 
terrible  accident,  from  no  fault  of  hers,  and  we  must  thank 
Heaven  for  her  escape.  But  she  is  now  perfectly  well,  and 
would  write  herself,  only  that  her  right  hand  is  a  little 
sprained. 


V. 


TO   M.    DE   REMUSAT,    AT    AIX-LA-CHAPELLE. 

Paris,  Wednesday,  25  Frwtidor,  Year  XII. 
{September  12,  ISO4.) 

Mon  am%  this  is  a  happy  day  for  me ;  I  have  had  news 
of  you  twice  over,  once  from  you  and  once  from  Descham]'>s. 
I  feel  quite  weary  with  the  bare  account  of  all  your  work  ! 
I  fear  that  amid  all  the  hubbub  you  will  not  have  time  to 


14  LETTERS   OF  MADAME  DE  EMUS  AT. 

take  care  of  yoiu-self.  I  know  how  jou  can  exert  yourself 
when  necessary,  and  I  feel  anxious  about  you.  But  remem- 
ber, your  health  is  the  first  need  of  my  life.  While  you  are 
rushing  about,  I  am  here  in  the  most  perfect  repose ;  I  be- 
stirred myself,  however,  in  order  to  send  off  your  actors. 
Make  your  mind  easy  on  that  point ;  all  will  be  well.  So 
soon  as  your  letter  for  Maherault  arrived,  I  went  with  him 
to  M.  de  Lavalette,  who  gave  orders  for  relays  of  post- 
horses  for  the  actors.  He  told  them  not  to  travel  too 
closely,  one  carriage  upon  the  other,  for  fear  of  not  finding 
horses  ready.  He  fears,  nevertheless,  that  they  may  have 
some  trouble,  notwithstanding  this  precaution,  in  getting 
from  Strasburg  to  Mayence,  and  may  be  delayed  for  a  day. 
I  asked  M.  de  Lavalette  for  an  intelligent  courier  to  precede 
them  on  the  road.  Afterward  (it  was  on  Monday  morning) 
I  went  to  Beckwelt's  *  to  fetch  the  twelve  thousand  francs, 
a  sum  which,  by  the  by,  I  had  some  trouble  to  get,  for  it 
had  been  invested.  I  secured  it  at  last,  and  then  proceeded 
to  the  green-room  of  the  Comedie,  where  I  found  your  sub- 
jects assembled,  and  quarreling  over  their  various  convey- 
ances. I  acted  as  Yice-Chamberlain,  and  I  gave  instructions 
about  all  to  Saint-Prix,  because  he  seemed  the  most  business- 
like, and  we  arranged  that  he  should  start  on  Tuesday  in  the 
first  carriage,  followed  by  a  second,  which  was  to  be  five 
hours  in  advance  of  the  others.  This  was  accordingly  car- 
ried out.  Mile.  Raucourt,t  only,  had  not  returned  from  the 
country  yesterday  morning.  I  am  waiting  to  see  Maherault 
before  closing  my  letter,  to  hear  news  of  him  from  the  fifth 
carriage,  which  she  and  her  people  are  to  occupy.    But  even 

*  Beckwelt,  chef  de  bureau  at  the  Finance  OfBce,  had  been  under  M.  de 
Vergennes  when  the  latter  was  Director  of  Taxes  at  the  General  Receipts  Ofl5ce 
in  the  Rue  Ste.  Avoye.  lie  continued  to  the  end  of  his  life  to  be  the  man  of 
business  of  the  family. 

f  Mile.  Raucourt,  who  was  born  in  1756,  had  long  been  first  tragic  actress 
at  the  Theatre  Fran9ais.  She  had  now  been  relegated  to  the  second  or  third 
rank,  in  consequence  of  the  success  of  Miles.  Georges  and  Duchesnois.  She 
died  in  1815. 


A  JUVENILE  ARTIST.  15 

if  she  does  not  arrive  until  four-and-twcnty  hours  after  the 
others,  you  would  still  be  able  to  have  "  Phedre,"  "  Bajazet," 
"  Ariane,"  or  "  Mithridate  "  played  ;  "  Ciina  "  and  "  Horace  " 
would  come  afterward.  The  greater  part  of  their  luggage  is 
going  by  the  diligence,  which  will  arrive  on  the  29th. 

I  am  now  going  to  see  Maherault,  and  to  read  your  let- 
ter, which  has  this  instant  reached  me,  to  him.  I  shall  ad- 
vise him  to  go,  if  possible.  The  actors  reckon  on  receiving 
money  from  you  on  their  arrival.  Those  who  are  left  be- 
hind complain  very  much  of  the  Emperor's  neglect  of  the 
Comedie  Fran§aise.  I  held  out  hopes  that  it  would  be  made 
up  to  them,  and  I  objected  to  their  closing  the  theatre  en- 
tirely, as  they  wished  to  do.  They  will  play  twice  or  thrice 
a  week,  but  they  are  so  few  in  number,  and  the  season  is  so 
fine,  that  they  will  really  need  help.  You  see  that  Mahe- 
rault and  I  have  done  our  best.  I  have  just  come  back 
to  my  room  after  seeing  Maherault,  who  tells  me  that 
Mile.  Raucourt  can  start  to-day,  Wednesday,  and,  since 
you  wish  it,  Maherault  will  go  with  her.  His  health  allows 
of  this. 

I  have  many  messages  for  you  from  your  son.  You  will 
wonder  that  he  does  not  send  them  himself,  but  he  has  gone 
on  a  party  of  pleasure  to  the  Jardin  des  Piantes,  and  was 
obliged  to  give  up  the  pleasure  of  wi-iting  to  you.  I  have 
made  a  discovery  about  him :  he  is  a  very  nice  boy.  You 
see  the  result  of  my  hours  of  meditation !  He  is  working 
very  fairly,  because  life  being  a  little  hard  for  me  just  now, 
I  spend  my  time  in  making  it  hard  for  him  too !  He  reads 
and  writes  with  me  for  three  hours  every  morning,,  and 
works  again  a  little  in  the  evening,,  for  I  found  it  did  not  do 
for  him  to  have  so  many  unoccupied  hours.  He  agreed 
very  willingly  to  the  evening  lessons,  which  consist  of  ten 
lines  of  verse  learned  by  heart,  and  a  few  written  phrases  of 
his  own  composition,  to  teach  him  to  spell.  He  had  a  funny 
idea  a  few  days  ago.  He  made  a  droll  little  sketch  repre- 
senting the  Emperor  at  his  toilet,  and  the  Sovereigns  of 


16       ,       LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  REMUSAT. 

Europe  each  handing  him  one  of  his  garments.     My  mother 
and  I  were  greatly  amnsed. 

People  say  here  that  the  Emperor  will  return  to  Bou- 
logne after  this  Rhine  journey.  In  that  case  you  would 
come  home,  I  hope,  or  would  you  be  going  into  Franche 
Comte?  Try  not  to  lose  sight  of  the  Presidency  of  the 
Department.  To  obtain  that,  I  would  patiently  bear  a  little 
delay.  But  what  will  the  Empress  do  ?  SJiall  we  soon  have 
her  among  us  again?  I  begin  to  think  her  absence  very 
long.  It  is  pleasant  to  live  v/ith  her,  and  I  wish  she  were 
returning  to  St.  Cloud. 

I  have  just  read,  in  Deschamj)s's  letter,  his  account  of  the 
Emperor's  reception  at  Aix-la-Chapelle.  You  are  going  to 
make  a  triumphant  progress,  and  I  must  own  to  a  secret  re- 
gret that  I  can  not  be  of  the  party,  since  you  are  one  of  it. 
My  only  fear  is  lest  the  Court,  so  well  received  everywhere, 
and  so  justly  disgusted  with  our  horrid  Parisians,  may  take 
a  dislike  to  this  gloomy  capital  and  remove  from  it  alto- 
gether. To  give  you  some  idea  of  our  amiability,  only  im- 
agine, everybody  is  grumbling  at  the  absence  of  the  actors  of 
the  Frangais,  though  the  house  was  invariably  empty  !  You 
see  that  I  take  advantage  of  your  permission  to  write  at 
length,  although  I  have  nothing  to  tell  you,  and  am  perhaps 
wearisome.  But  what  can  a  humdrum  woman  like  me  hear 
in  the  way  of  news  ?  I  seldom  go  out,  I  see  no  one  but  a 
few  old  graybeards,  and  I  can  not  be  happy  with  my  hus- 
band away.  My  greatest  amusement  is  the  shower-bath, 
which  I  take  every  morning,  and  enjoy  very  much.  My 
health  is  good ;  I  even  think  I  am  growing  stout.  Every 
one  says  so.  .  .  . 


M.  DE  SOUZA  IS  RECALLED.  17 


VL 


TO  M.  DE  KEMUSAT,  AT  MAYENCE. 

29  Fruclklor,  Year  XIT. 
{Sunday,  September  16,  IS04.) 

I  AM  surprised  that  you  do  not  mention  M.  do  Souza  in 
any  of  your  letters.  I  saw  liis  wife  this  morning  ;  she  had 
heard  from  him  the  bad  news  of  his  recall,  and  of  his  new 
mission  to  one  of  the  Northern  Courts.  You  can  imagine 
the  effect  on  her  and  the  excess  of  her  grief.  She  fears, 
moreover,  that  matters  may  become  still  worse  for  her,  and 
that  some  false  report  may  be  made  to  the  Emperor,  of 
things  she  will  be  accused  of  having  said  on  the  subject ;  she 
begs  you  will  prevent  this  additional  misfortune,  by  assuring 
the  Emperor  of  her  regret,  but,  at  the  same  time,  of  the 
resolution  she  has  taken  not  to  manifest  even  the  slightest 
vexation,  and  to  comfort  herself  by  the  recollection  of  his 
Majesty's  kindness,  which  she  will  never  forget.  M.  de 
Souza,  who  for  some  time  past  has  had  many  reasons  for  ex- 
pecting his  removal,  left  Paris,  nevertheless,  in  a  more  tran- 
quil state  of  mind,  because,  two  days  before  his  departure, 
he  had  had  a  frank  explanation  with  M.  de  Lima,  who  gave 
him  his  word  of  honor  that  he  had  no  pretensions  to  the 
Embassy  in  France.  It  would  seem,  however,  that  he 
changed  his  mind  at  Aix-la-Chapelle.  But  if  anything  can 
console  Mmc.  de  Souza,  it  is  the  tender  affection  of  her  good 
husband.  Nothing  can  be  more  touching  than  the  letter  in 
which  he  gives  her  all  the  particulars.  I  should  like  you  to 
see  it ;  it  is  impossible  to  have  purer,  tenderer,  or  more  esti- 
mable sentiments  than  his.  However  sad  it  may  be  to  part 
with  her  country,  her  friends,  her  old  habits,  and  perhaps 
even  her  son,*  there  can  be  no  unhappiness  in  accompanying 
a  husband  like  hers  or  mine. 

*  Charles  dc  Flahault,  Mmc.  de  Souza's  son  by  her  first  marriafce,  became  a 
general  at  the  end  of  the  First  Empire,  at  a  very  early  age.     Uo  was  a  senator 


18  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  REMITS  AT. 

It  is  especially  on  account  of  her  son  that  Mme.  de  Souza 
fears  to  be  injured  with  the  Emperor.  She  begs  you  to  tell 
this  to  the  Empress,  and  to  say  that,  though  greatly  dis- 
tressed, she  is  quite  resigned.  If  possible,  write  me  a  few 
words  to  prove  that  you  have  exerted  yourself  in  this  affair, 
and  that  our  good  protectress  is  interested  in  the  poor  lady. 
In  truth,  she  needs  such  a  consolatory  proof  of  your  friend- 
ship.* I  think  you  must  now  be  at  Cologne.  Every  one 
tells  me  that  you  are  making  the  most  delightful  journey  in 
the  world,  and  that  I  ought  to  be  very  glad  you  are  travel- 
ing through  such  a  lovely  country.  All  the  better,  if  you 
are  enjoying  yourself.  I  am  not  so  selfish  as  to  wish  you  to 
be  dull ;  I  will  take  all  the  dullness  for  my  share,  and  shall  be 
amply  rewarded  by  the  joy  of  meeting  you  again. 

I  am  longing  too  to  be  once  more  with  the  Empress — I 
would  almost  say  with  the  Emj^eror  also,  only  that  it  might 
seem  disrespectful.  You  say  nothing  about  his  return ;  true, 
you  may  know  very  little  about  it.  It  is  rumored  here  that 
the  coronation  is  to  be  deferred.  I  can  not  believe  this,  and, 
if  I  might  venture,  I  would  say  that  delay  would  have  an  ill 
effect.  On  the  other  hand,  we  are  told  that  the  Pope  is 
coming,  and  that  the  Grand  Master  of  Ceremonies  is  to  be 
sent  forward  to  meet  him.  Do  you  know  whether  this  is 
true  ?  You  are  really  unbearably  discreet ;  there  is  nothing 
to  be  got  out  of  you. 

I  saw  Portalis  about  your  nephew.  He  promised  to  put 
down  his  name  on  the  list  for  a  Prefecture,  and  to  speak 
strongly  in  his  favor.     I  will  not  let  him  forget  his  promise  ; 

and  Grand  Chancellor  of  the  Legion  of  Honor  under  the  Second  Empire.     He 
died  September  1,  1870. 

*  This  letter  is  one  of  those  (the  reader  must  remember)  written  when  my 
grandparents  were  in  constant  fear  that  their  correspondence  was,  or  might  be, 
seen  by  the  Emperor.  This  will  be  still  more  apparent  in  succeeding  letters. 
Yet  it  would  not  be  just  to  say  that  all  their  expressions  and  remarks  were  dic- 
tated by  calculation.  There  was  a  certain  mixture  of  sincerity  and  caution  in 
the  sentiments  they  expressed,  which  it  would  be  difficult  to  sift,  but  which  is 
intelligible  to  the  reader  of  the  Letters  and  the  Memoirs. 


HUMBOLDT.  19 

while  you  are  away  I  like  to  exert  myself  actively  in  your 
service,  or  in  that  of  any  one  belonging  to  you. 

I  dined  a  few  days  ago  with  M.  IIuml)oldt,  and  passed 
the  whole  evening  in  delightedly  listening  to  him.  He  is  sim- 
ple and  modest  like  Merit  itself ;  he  has  observed  with  judg- 
ment, has  a  fine  memory,  and  his  narratives  are  admirably 
vyritten.  I  can  use  no  other  word,  for  he  speaks  both  care- 
fully and  fluently,  and  one  seems  to  be  listening  to  an  inter- 
esting book  read  aloud.  .  .  . 


YII. 


TO   M.    DE   EEMUSAT,    AT   MAYENCE. 

Paris,  Tu<xday,  1st  Complementary,  Year  XIL 
{September  18,  I8O4.) 

I  HAVE  not  heard  from  you  since  Thursday,  and  though 
not  greatly  surprised  at  your  silence,  still  it  makes  me  just  a 
little  anxious,  and  I  shall  remain  so  until  you  can  find  a  leisure 
moment  in  which  to  tell  me  that  you  are  well.  Anxiety 
about  your  health  pursues  me  everywhere,  and  any  one  to 
hear  me  talking  about  the  heat  and  the  cold  would  imagine 
you  were  a  gouty  old  invalid.  In  spite  of  your  infirmities, 
however,  I  hope  you  are  getting  on  well.  .  .  • 

You  will  see  in  the  newspapers  a  capital  letter  from  the 
Minister  of  Police  to  the  clergy ;  we  are  all  delighted  with 
it  here.  He  wrote  to  me  that  his  w^ife  receives  on  "Wednes- 
days ;  I  intend  calling  on  her  to-morrow.  If  you  wish  for 
news,  for  you  arc  capable  of  knowing  nothing  about  it,  al- 
though on  the  very  spot  whence  it  emanates,  let  me  tell  you 
that  Mme.  Bonajjarte  mere,  who  has  also  her  brevet  of  Prin- 
cess, has  been  sent  for ;  that  M.  Clary  is  her  Chamberlain, 
and  Mme.  Clary  her  Lady  of  Honor ;  that  Mme.  Borghcse  * 

*  Mme.  Borghesc,  or  Princess  Paulino,  was  sister  to  the  Enipcror. 


20  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  R^MUSAT. 

has  quarreled  with  her  husband,  and  is  returning  to  Paris ; 
that  private  proposals  have,  it  is  said,  been  made  to  Lucien ; 
that  M.  de  Jaucourt  is  First  Chamberlain  to  Prince  Joseph ; 
that  the  marriage  contract  between  Mile.  Tascher  and  M.  de 
Puentes  is  signed,  also  those  between  Eugene  and  Mile,  de 
Pohan,  and  M.  Tascher  and  Mile,  de  Valence.  This  is  what 
we  amuse  ourselves  by  hearing  and  repeating  in  Paris,  during 
your  absence.  Much  of  it  seems  probable,  but  I  do  not  be- 
lieve it  all.*  About  once  a  week  I  emerge  from  my  shell  to 
pay  a  few  visits,  and  gather  in  all  the  gossip.  The  rest  of 
my  time  I  remain  at  home,  and  my  days  are  all  so  alike  that 
you  may  always  guess  what  I  am  doing  at  whatever  hour  you 
may  think  of  me.  In  the  morning,  my  bath  ;  on  returning 
home,  Charles's  lessons.  Afterward  I  write  a  few  lines  to 
you,  and  read  Pascal,  whom  I  have  seized  upon  to  keep  up 
my  piety.  In  the  course  of  the  evening  a  little  discussion 
with  the  Abbe  Morellet,f  Bertrand,  and  GaUois,  who  is  very 
friendly  again ;  and  by  ten  o'clock  every  one  in  the  house  is 
in  bed.  This,  you  see,  is  a  very  salubrious  sort  of  life,  and 
my  health  consequently  is  good.  With  a  few  little  excep- 
tions— you  will  guess  them — I  could  be  very  happy,  spending 
my  life  in  this  way ;  but  I  feel  that  I  should  sometimes  want 
to  see  my  good  and  kind  protectress,  and  the  Emperor  also. 
Adieu.  Mamma  pretends  that  she  no  longer  thinks  about 
you,  but  she  speaks  of  you  continually. 

Wednesday  Evening. 

I  had  closed  my  letter,  but  I  open  it  again,  because  I  have 
received  one  that  has  raised  my  spirits.  Your  want  of  occu- 
pation wearies  you,  but  you  have  no  vexations  as  I  feared.  I 
shall  send  you  my  little  sermon  all  the  same,  however,  be- 

*  Most  of  these  previsions  were  not  realized.  Everybody  knows  that  Prince 
Eugene  de  Beauharnais  married  Princess  Augusta  of  Bavaria,  and  not  Mile,  de 
Rohan. 

f  The  Abbe  Morellet,  who  wrote  his  Memoirs,  is  he  whom  Voltaire  nick- 
named Abbe  Mord-les  (the  Biter).  He  died,  over  ninety  years  of  age,  on  Jan- 
uary 12,  1819.     He  was  a  member  of  the  French  Academy. 


DULLNESS  REIGNS  AT  PARIS.  21 

cause  I  have  not  time  to  write  my  letter  over  again.  Be- 
sides, in  the  vortex  in  which  we  are  plunged,  we  shall  find 
good  use  for  it.  I  can  understand  the  dulhiess  of  your  pres-  ^ 
ent  life.  You  are  not  accustomed  to  keep  your  mind  in  such 
a  state  of  inactivity,  and  really  and  truly  I  pity  you,  for  I 
know  what  it  is.  I  hope  you  are  often  consoled  hy  smiles 
from  the  master;  you  rejoice  in  them,  I  know,  and  I  con- 
gratulate you,  if  you  obtain  them  sometimes.  You  are  very 
good  to  give  me  an  account  of  your  day,  and  your  narrative  is 
most  spirited.  But  will  no  Chamberlains  be  appointed  to  do 
the  no-work  which  now  fills  up  all  your  time  ?  You  ought 
to  have  brought  such  labors  to  an  end.  .  .  . 

I  see  Mme.  de  Souza  every  day.  She  is  out  of  spirits  and 
unhappy,  and  all  this  business  is  not  a  consequence  of  her  in- 
discretion only ;  she  certainly  helped,  but  she  is  not  the  only 
cause.  Her  husband's  behavior  is  most  noble  and  dignified. 
He  shows  her  and  Charles  *  the  greatest  affection.  AYherever 
she  may  be,  with  such  a  husband,  it  will  only  depend  upon 
herself  to  be  happy.  You  do  not  say  a  word  about  Mme. 
Devaines,t  and  she  is  quite  put  out  by  it.  She  is  not  a  woman 
to  offend,  and  you  are  wrong  to  be  negligent  of  this.  If  I 
receive  another  letter  with  no  mention  of  her,  I  must  invent 
some  sort  of  satisfactory  message. 

I  heard  here  that  M.  de  Segur  X  was  to  be  sent  forward 
to  meet  the  Pope,  and  as  the  happiness  of  seeing  you,  es- 
pecially after  so  long  an  absence,  comes  before  everything 
with  me,  I  was  delighted.  They  say  now  that  the  corona- 
tion is  deferred,  but  I  think  I  told  you  this  before.  There  is 
nothing  new  in  Paris,  but  profound  dullness  and  idleness  reign. 
Your  poor  theatre  gives  an  occasional  performance  to  an  empty 
house,  and,  by-the-way,  you  must  give  them  a  good  rciking 
on  your  return  ;  they  are  so  lazy !  All  the  newspapers  are 
down  on  your  actors  with  well-deserved  blame.     Before  they 

*  Charles  dc  Flahault. 

f  Mme.  Devaincs  wished  to  be  Lad)-in-Waiting. 

X  M.  de  Segur  was  Grand  Master  of  the  Ceremouics. 


22  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  BE  REMUS  AT. 

left  Paris,  they  were  always  acting  the  same  pieces,  and  they 
want  a  sound  scolding. 

Picard's  theatre  is  carried  on  with  great  spirit.  lie  has 
brought  out  a  new  piece,  which  is  a  success ;  but  I  have  not 
seen  it,  as  I  scarcely  ever  go  to  the  play.  Yesterday,  how- 
ever, although  depressed  by  youi;  letter,  I  went  to  the  Opera. 
I  saw  "  Panurge,"  which  was  very  good,  and  the  great  Du- 
port,  who,  in  spite  of  poor  M.  de  Lugay's  prohibitions,  intro- 
duced ever  so  many  new  steps.  I  saw  M.  de  Lugay  *  a  few 
days  ago ;  he  is  melancholy  and  discontented,  and  confided 
some  of  his  sorrows  to  me.  O  mo7i  ami,  what  human  being 
is  happy  ? 

But  enough  of  petoffes.  You  will  have  no  occasion  to 
complain  of  the  brevity  of  this  letter ;  I  am  spinning  it  out- 
as  much  as  I  can,  as  when  it  is  finished  I  must  return  to  soli- 
tude. You  are  now  at  Mayence,  whence  you  will  write  to 
me ;  but  it  will  be  four  or  five  days  before  I  can  hear  from 
you.  Adieu,  my  beloved.  Charles  is  climbing  on  my 
shoulder,  to  ask  if  I  have  sent  a  message  from  him  ;  he  is  an 
affectionate  child.  I  think  you  will  see  that  he  has  made 
some  progress.  Adieu.  Oh !  I  was  forgetting.  Send  me  a 
line  authorizing  me  to  take  Mme.  Lavoisier's  f  apartment, 
which  she  agrees  to  let  to  us. 

*  M.  de  Lii9ay  was  Prefect  of  the  Palace  and  responsible  for  the  Opera  and 
the  Opera  Comique.  Duport  was  an  opera-dancer  and  composer  of  ballets.  He 
was  an  excellent  dancer  in  the  serious  style.  "Panurge"  is  an  opera  of 
Gr^try's,  the  libretto  by  Morel.  It  was  represented  for  the  first  time  in  1V85. 
Picard  had  been  appointed  director  of  the  Italian  Opera,  on  its  removal  to  the 
Salle  Louvois  in  1803. 

t  Mme.  Lavoisier,  the  widow  of  the  illustrious  Lavoisier,  who  was  executed 
under  the  Reign  of  Terror,  had  been  Mile.  Paulze.  She  died  in  1834,  after  a 
second  marriage  with  Count  Rumford.  She  was,  all  through  her  life,  very  inti- 
mate with  our  family.  My  father  felt  a  real  regard  for  her.  She  was  rather 
blunt,  but  sincere,  faithful,  and  energetic.  She  was  living  at  that  time  on  the 
ground-floor  of  a  large  house  on  the  Boulevard  de  la  Madeleine,  at  the  corner  of 
tlie  Rue  Duphot.  This  was  the  apartment  my  grandparents  were  anxious  to  take, 
and  where,  in  fact,  my  father  passed  the  greater  part  of  his  childhood.  The 
whole  building  has  since  been  pulled  down,  and  replaced  by  the  houses  of  the 


A    COURTIER'S  TROUBLES.  23 


YIII. 


TO   M.  DE   REMUS  AT,   AT   MAYENCE. 

Paris,  Wednesday,  Sd  Complementary,  Year  XII. 

{September  19,  ISO4.) 

I  WKOTE  to  you  under  the  melancholy  influence  of  your 
last  letter,  and  I  regret  now  that  I  did  so,  because  I  do  not 
wish  to  cause  you  the  slightest  pain  of  any  kind.  But  you 
will  forgive  me,  if  you  recollect  that  your  tone  of  gloom  was 
accompanied  by  no  particulars,  and  that  you  left  all  details 
to  my  imagination.  I  still  feel  rather  anxious,  in  a  vague 
way,  and  constrained  to  write  to  you  again  to-day,  although 
a  letter  for  you  has  already  been  dispatched  this  morning. 
Assuredly  you  can  not  accuse  me  of  neglect.  I  write  to  you 
almost  every  day ;  in  fact,  I  believe  I  write  every  day ;  it  is 
my  delight  and  my  only  consolation,  and,  while  thus  holding 
intercourse  with  you,  I  cherish  the  delusion  that  we  are  once 
more  together.  I  enjoy  this  happiness  all  the  more,  because 
you  tell  me  that  my  letters  give  you  the  same  feeling,  and  I 
believe  it,  for  I  love  to  believe  all  you  say.  What  renders 
my  life  so  happy,  and  beautifies  both  present  happiness  and 
that  which  I  look  forward  to  in  the  future,  is  ray  entire  con- 
fidence in  you — a  confidence  which,  I  will  confess,  I  some- 
times abuse.  I  am  so  sure  of  your  feelings ;  it  is  so  delight- 
ful to  be  able  to  say,  when  reading  my  husband's  affectionate 
words,  "  All  this  is  true."  But  to  return  to  your  let.:er.  It 
grieved  me ;  but  I  do  think  your  extreme  sensitiveness  is 
the  cause  of  your  being  so  easily  upset.  "What  has  hap- 
pened ?  Some  slight  mark  of  dissatisfaction  on  the  part  of 
the  Emperor,  which  hurt  you  at  the  moment,  but  which  can 
have  no  serious  results,  because  your  zeal  for  him  is  as  active 
as  your  admiration  is  sincere.     Tie  is  not  ignorant  of  this ; 

Cite  Viiulc.  :Mmc.  Rumford,  on  vacating  it,  took  Mine,  de  Vamlemont's  house 
in  the  Rue  d'Anjou.  Afterward  the  Rues  Rumford  and  Lavoif  icr,  and  part  of 
the  Boulevard  Malesherbes,  were  built  on  this  ground. 


24  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  BE  ItEMUSAT. 

lie  lias  more  than  once  done  justice  to  you,  and  you  are  too 
right-minded  to  misjudge  the  occasional  violence  of  temper 
that  belongs  to  his  character,  and  which  is  surely  sufficiently 
accounted  for  by  the  multitude  of  affairs  that  occupy  and 
agitate  him.  Moreover,  it  appears  to  me  that  at  'this  very 
moment  he  is  giving  you  a  proof  of  confidence  in  appointing 
you  President  of  an  Electoral  College.  There  is  no  altera- 
tion, therefore,  in  the  interest  he  kindly  takes  in  us,  and  you 
must  not  forget  that  the  life  of  Courts  is  not  so  calm  and 
peaceful  that  one  can  dispense  with  strong  armor  to  guard 
one's  feelings  from  the  little  vexations  that  meet  one  at  every 
turn.  Is  it  from  your  companions  that  you  have  received 
some  annoyance?  Has  your  self-respect  been  wounded? 
Has  some  prerogative  been  contested  and  taken  away  ?  After 
all,  what  does  it  matter  ?  Ti-ust  to  time,  to  the  justice  of  the 
Emperor,  to  your  own  merit,  for  the  reward  due  to  every 
honorable  man  who  does  his  duty.  Man  ami,  one  thought 
is  constantly  before  me,  which  prevents  my  feeling  very 
deeply  the  little  contradictions  we  may  meet  with  at  Court. 
It  is  this.  What  have  we  done  for  the  Eevolution  ?  What 
pledges,  to  use  the  current  expression,  have  we  given  it? 
What  claim  have  we  to  distinctions  from  the  new  authorities 
it  has  brought  forth  ?  We  have  suffered  and  sighed,  which 
is  interesting  to  nobody ;  and  after  that  terrible  uplieaving, 
your  position  is  one  to  be  envied  and  coveted  by  all  who 
have  been  toiling  to  get  on  these  last  fifteen  years.  Such 
reflections  make  me  earnestly  wish  that  you  could  obtain 
some  place  in  the  Government,  as  well  as  your  place  at 
Court,  ^nd  belong  to  some  oflficial  department.  They  also 
moderat!  my  feelings  of  ambition,  which  would  be  exces- 
sive, if  1  20uld  forget  that,  after  such  political  crises,  modest 
merit  an  delicate  probity  have  no  claims  to  favors  of  the 
first  rank. 

You  Wi  think  my  tone  very  serious  to-day,  but  it  har- 
monizes wi'i  my  thoughts,  which  in  consequence  of  your 
letter  are  ra  rher  grave.     Yet,  when  I  look  around  me,  I  see 


CONSOLATORY  CONSIDERATIONS.  25 

many  reasons  for  contentment;  our  mutual  affection,  our 
children,  our  happy  home !  Who  could  complain,  with  so 
many  blessings  i  .  .  . 

The  Emperor,  I  suppose,  is  at  Mayence  by  this  time.  I 
hope  the  actors  have  arrived.  I  see  by  your  letter  that  when 
you  wrote  you  had  received  none  of  mine  on  the  subject ;  I 
trust  you  have  them  all  now.  I  should  not  like  them  to  be 
lost.  Adieu,  once  more,  my  beloved.  Your  children  and 
my  mother  are  well.  My  health  is  tolerably  good  ;  Corvisart 
is  more  satisfied  with  it,  and  if  my  mind  were  quite  at  ease, 
I  should  be  well.  Tell  the  Empress  how  much  I  long  to  see 
her.  I  do  not  send  the  same  message  to  the  Emperor,  and 
yet,  believe  me,  I  wish  he  were  back  at  St.  Cloud. 


IX. 

TO  M.  DE  REMUSAT,  AT  MAYENCE. 

Paris,  Friday,  J^h  Complenientarii,  Tear  XII. 
{September  21,  ISO4.) 

...  I  CALLED  on  Mine,  do  Talleyrand  yesterday  morning. 
Slie  was  very  civil,  and  said  she  should  tell  her  luisband  to 
tell  you  she  had  seen  me.  She  asserted  so  strenuously  and 
so  often  that  her  husband  was  delighted,  happy,  and  on  the 
best  terms  with  the  Emperor,  that  I  was  half  tempted  to 
doubt  it. 

Poor  Mme.  de  Souza  is  far  from  this  state  of  triumphant 
delight,  although  she  has  sufficient  self-command  to  speak 
very  little  of  her  departure.  The  Iin])erial  family  show  her 
tlic  greatest  friendship.  Mme.  Louis  *  shed  tears  on  seeing 
her,  and  Prince  Louis  promised  to  write  to  the  Emperor  tliat 
there  was  some  intrigue  at  the  bottoni  of  all  this,  which 
ought  to  be  looked  into.    M.  and  Mme.  Murat  also  are  inter- 

*  Mme.  Louis  Bonapurte,  aftciward  Queen  Ilortcuse. 

2 


26  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  REMUSAT. 

esting  themselves.  I  do  not  think  anything  is  to  be  gained, 
liowever,  and  the  best  thing  our  poor  ambassadress  can  do,  is 
to  love  her  husband  and  go  with  him  to  Russia,  where  she 
may  enjoy  the  honors  paid  to  him  and  the  sensation  she  her- 
self will  create.  Bertrand  is  heart-broken,  and  Gallois  in  a 
state  of  repressed  fury  ;  Abbe  Morellet  no  longer  knows  how 
to  spend  his  Thursdays.  In  the  midst  of  all  this  M.  de 
Souza  remains  admirably  calm  and  dignified.  lie  has  be- 
haved nobly  throughout ;  he  is  a  very  high-minded  man. 

You  will  not  tell  me  whether  the  coronation  is  to  be  de- 
ferred, and  I  do  not  know  whether  I  ought  to  go  on  with  my 
preparations.  Meanwhile  I  would  much  rather  spend  the 
money  on  installing  ourselves  comfortably  than  on  unneces- 
sary clothes.  I  have  no  answer  as  yet  about  the  price  of  the 
furniture  which  I  agreed  on  with  Fallanquin. 

I  have  just  seen  Picard,  who  praises  you  and  the  Empress 
alternately.  He  tells  me  your  health  is  very  good.  Pray 
take  care  of  it.     I  am  well.     Adieu. 


TO   M.    DE   REMUSAT,    AT   MAYENCE. 

Paris,  Sunday,  1  Vendemiaire,  Year  XIII. 
{September  23,  I8O4.) 

...  I  SUPPOSE  you  are  now  in  the  midst  of  your  the- 
atrical performances,  and  that  they  are  going  off  well.  It  is 
just  the  contrary  here  ;  our  actors  play  only  twice  a  week  to 
empty  houses.  The  public  grumbles  at  them,  and  they  at 
the  public.  I  inclose  you  a  newspaper  which  speaks  of  them 
fairly  enough.  They  certainly  require  reform  ;  because,  after 
all,  in  former  times,  when  they  were  only  half  their  present 
number,  the  removal  of  the  Court  never  prevented  them 
from  playing  at  the  Frangais.  Picard's  theatre,  with  smaller 
resources,  is  better  managed  ;  it  has  been  open  without  inter- 


PAmTINOS.  27 

mission,  and  he  has  brought  out  two  new  pieces  that  have 
both  succeeded,  I  was  inclined  to  send  for  Dazincourt,* 
but  I  reflected  that  it  would  not  do  for  me  to  set  myself  up 
as  regent,  that  you  would  not  approve,  and  that  it  must  not 
be.  People  hope  that  on  your  return  you  will  regulate  the 
administration  of  the  theatre  differently. 

I  went  this  morning  to  the  Salon,  where  I  saw  some  fine 
paintings.  The  best  is  undoubtedly  the  picture  by  Gros, 
of  the  Emperor's  visit  to  the  sufferers  from  the  plague,  in 
Egypt.  Drawing,  composition,  and  color,  all  are  excellent. 
David  at  once  awarded  it  the  crowm  of  honor,  and  it  was  well 
deserved.  There  is  a  most  painful  picture,  by  Hennequin, 
only  moderately  well  executed.  It  represents  the  dreadful 
events  at  Quiberon.f  One  shudders  at  the  sight  of  French- 
men slaughtering  each  other,  and  I  own  that  it  was  an  effort 
to  me  to  explain  this  melancholy  subject  to  our  son.  It  is 
said  to  have  been  painted  by  order,  but  not  only  is  it  ill  exe- 
cuted, but  I  fail  to  see  that  it  can  have  any  good  effect.  I 
remarked  also  a  beautiful  flower-piece  by  Vandael,  belong- 
ing to  the  Empress,  and  Isabey's  picture,  which  is  charming, 
every  face  being  a  perfect  likeness.  Lastly,  a  very  beautiful 
little  painting  by  Richard,  who  painted  the  Valentine  of 
Milan.  It  represents  Francis  I.,  and  is  pronounced  by  con- 
noisseurs to  be  equal  to  a  Gerard  Dow.  You  should  advise 
the  Empress  to  buy  it. 

Will  you  be  so  kind  as  to  mention  M.  Cheron  to  Maret  ?  % 
This  is  the  reason.  The  Presidency  of  his  Electoral  College 
is  vacant.  I  wn-ote  to  Montalivet,  and,  at  my  request,  he 
very  kindly  put  Cheron's  name  at  the  head  of  the  list  pre- 

*  Dazincourt,  who  was  born  in  174*7  and  died  in  1809,  created  the  part  of 
Figaro,  and  had  great  influence  at  the  Comedic  Fran9ai(5c.  Ills  acting  was  con- 
sidered to  be  correct,  refined,  and  somewhat  cold.  Preville  said  of  him,  "  lie  is 
a  good  comic  actor — joking  apart." 

f  Every  one  knows  that  painful  incident  of  the  civil  war,  of  which  tljc  Em- 
peror wished  to  perpetuate  the  memory.  In  1795  the  emigres  and  the  English 
landed  at  Quiberon.     Tliey  were  defeated  by  General  Iloche. 

X  Maret,  afterward  Due  dc  Bassano.     Ue  was  at  this  time  Secretary  of  Stata 


28  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  REMUSAT. 

sented  to  Portalis.  The  latter  promised  to  put  it  on  the  list 
that  will  be  shown  to  the  Emperor,  and  then  will  come  the 
opportunity  for  M.  Maret  to  help  us ;  do  not  forget  this. 


XI. 

TO   M.    DE   REMUSAT,   AT   VESOUL. 

Paris,  Fnday,  6  Vendemiarc,  Year  XIII. 
{September  28,  ISO4.) 

Thanks  for  your  two  letters,  which  arrived  together  and 
gave  me  great  pleasure.  I  needed  these  two  companions  of 
my  solitude,  for  I  have  been  alone  since  last  Monday.  My 
mother  is  at  Auvers,  and  has  taken  Charles,  leaving  me  alone 
with  my  thoughts.  I  should  be  very  dull  were  it  not  for  the 
sweet  reveries  caused  by  your  letters,  and  for  the  knowledge 
that  Charles  is  enjoying  himself.  Thus  maternal  love,  the 
least  selfish  of  all  love,  delights  in  the  sacrifice  of  self.  But 
I  do  not  so  patiently  endure  a  certain  person's  absence,  and 
time  seems  to  lag  wearily  until  the  happy  moment  of  your 
return.  It  is  said  that  the  Empress  will  come  back  here 
next  week ;  I  shall  take  my  turn  of  waiting  the  following 
week,  so  as  to  be  free  from  the  20th  to  the  25th.  Then, 
with  nothing  to  disturb  me  from  the  anticipation  of  the  close 
of  this  weary  separation,  with  what  impatience  shall  I  not 
await  the  blessed  day  that  will  reunite  us ! 

I  have  just  received  lettei*s  from  my  mother ;  she  says 
that  Charles  is  in  good  spirits,  and  is  all  day  long  in  the  vine- 
yards. I  am  glad  he  has  taken  advantage  of  these  last  fine 
days.  While  he  is  playing,  I  am  thinking  of  him  and  you ; 
I  make  plans  for  the  future,  and  place  you  both  in  a  prosper- 
ous position,  as  you  deserve.  I  pictm-e  that  dear  child  re- 
warding us  for  all  we  have  done  for  him,  and  enjojnng  the 
good  things  of  life  that  you  have  amassed  for  his  sake,  while 
you  enjoy  calm  repose  with  me  after  all  your  trials  and 


PHILOSOPHY.  29 

labors.  Oh,  my  dearest,  may  these  hopes  be  reahzed  and 
not  disappointed  !  "Where  are  those  days  in  wliich  I  should 
have  had  no  doubt  ?     What  sad  progress  I  have  made  ! 

It  seems  we  are  not  to  see  the  Emperor  just  yet ;  lie  in- 
tends returning  to  Boulogne.  Here  we  are  all  excited  about 
the  invasion,  and  politics  are  the  order  of  the  day.  Yon  may 
imagine  that  we  don't  let  the  affairs  of  Turkey  pass  without 
plenty  of  comment  and  much  dissertation.  But  I  have  little 
to  say  on  the  subject.  The  older  I  grow  the  less  I  care  for 
what  is  not  myself,  that  is,  you  and  all  I  love.  "Whatever 
the  future  may  have  in  store  for  us,  if  we  are  left  together, 
we  shall  always  be  happy ;  otherwise,  all  will  be  over.  Do 
not  scold  me  for  a  shade  of  melancholy ;  you  know  who  will 
make  me  gay  again.  "While  on  the  subject  of  the  finality  of 
all  things,  did  you  see  in  the  papers  the  almost  sudden  death 
of  poor  Fargues,*  and  that  of  Mme.  Macdonald  ?  Thus  do 
youth  and  riches  vanish  in  a  single  moment.  1  remember 
what  you  told  me  once  of  Fargues's  discontent,  and  of  his 
unsatisfied  ambition ;  if  he  had  known  then  how  soon  he 
was  to  reach  the  term  of  all  human  passions,  how  greatly  he 
would  have  despised  his  own  state  of  mind  ! 

Is  not  this  a  grand  subject  for  moralizing,  and  in  my 
present  humor  I  have  but  to  let  myself  run  on  and  I  shall  be 
making  the  liveliest  and  most  original  remarks.  But  I  spare 
you,  and  in  order  to  enliven  you  a  little  more,  I  must  tell  you 
of  the  sums  our  new  house  f  is  costing  us.  I  send  you  an 
estimate  I  got  from  Fallampin,  +  before  beginning,  that  you 
may  see  the  amount.  I  exclaimed  when  I  saw  it,  and  asked 
for  exact  particulars  of  each  article,  and  I  see  plainly  that  the 

*  M.  Fargdcs  was  in  the  Administration.  Ilis  son  was  Auditor  under  the 
Empire  and  Prefect  in  1830. 

f  She  is  still  speaking  of  the  house  on  the  Boulevard  de  la  Madeleine,  or 
rather  of  the  ground-floor  of  that  house.  The  rent  was  seven  thousand  francs 
(£280).  The  house  was  bought  successively  by  M.  Ouvrard,  and  M.  Pourtales, 
who  lived  in  it.  It  was  used  afterward  as  an  hotel,  and  then  passed  into  the 
hands  of  Morel  dc  Vindc. 

\  An  upholsterer. 


30  LETTERS   OF  MADAME  DE  REMUSAT. 

present  generation  is  foolish  to  throw  away  such  sums  of 
money  on  all  these  superfluities. 

However,  I  shall  conclude  none  of  my  purchases  until 
your  return ;  there  is  no  hurry,  nor  will  there  be  any  diffi- 
culty in  finding  what  we  require.  You  must  own  that  I  am 
right  in  saying  we  are  all  foolish.  Our  good  old  forefathers, 
wiser  than  we,  passed  their  days  in  arm-chairs  where  their 
fathers  had  sat  before  them,  and  they  amused  themselves 
quite  as  much  as  we  do.  ISTowadays,  if  one  would  have  a  few 
friends  in  one's  house,  one  must  begin  by  decorating  it  like  a 
shop,  and  it  is  too  true  that  many  people  have  no  means  of 
amusing  their  guests  except  by  feasting  their  eyes  on  the  ele- 
gance of  their  furniture. 

I  hope  your  actors  have  given  satisfaction ;  I  don't  see 
why  they  should  not  act  as  well  at  Mayence  as  here.  When 
you  have  amused  yourself  sufficiently,  send  them  back,  for 
those  who  remain  are  really  pitiable ;  the  theatre  is  nearly 
always  closed,  and  when  open  is  empty.  Picard,  on  the  con- 
trary, is  delighted,  and  proud  of  his  success.  The  Opera 
Comique  have  done  well  also ;  they  brought  out  the  night 
before  last  a  most  charming  little  opera. 

Adieu  ;  I  think  this  is  enough  gossip.  You  will  read  it 
before  going  to  bed  the  day  you  arrive  at  Yesoul ;  it  will  put 
you  asleep.  You  are  quite  right  to  have  made  up  your  mind 
to  be  amused  with  my  long,  rambling  letters — for,  if  you  had 
not,  what  would  become  of  vou  ? 


XII. 

TO   M.    DE   EEMUSAT,*    AT   MILiVN. 

St.  Cloud,  Saturday,  9  Germinal,  Year  XIII. 
{March  30,  1S05.) 

In  one  of  Mme.  de  Sevigne's  letters  she  says, ''  What  a 
day  is  that  on  which  separation  commences  !  "    Alas  !  I  have 

*  The  coronation  had  taken  place  in  Paris  in  December,  1804.   A  few  months 
later,  on  11  Germinal,  Year  XIII.  (April  1,  1805),  the  Emperor  left  for  Milan, 


AT  ST.    CLOUD.  31 

experienced  the  pain  of  such  a  day,  and  I  do  not  think  there 
can  be  many  moments  more  painful  than  those  which  follow 
on  the  departure  of  a  person  we  love.  The  solitude  that 
succeeds  to  the  bustle  of  dejiarture,  the  silence,  the  tears  that 
stand  in  the  eyes  of  all,  but  that  one  dares  not  acknowledge 
lest  they  turn  into  sobs,  and  for  all  the  rest  of  the  day  tlie 
usual  order  of  the  house  neglected  !  In  short,  every  little  cir- 
cumstance that  one  dwells  on  although  it  only  adds  to  one's 
grief !  For  myself,  my  dearest,  I  am  not  strong  enough  to 
bear  such  emotions  frequently.  I  have  taught  myself  to 
believe  that  we  should  always  be  together;  I  can  not  exist 
alone  and  far  from  tou.  Do  believe  me,  there  can  be  no 
happiness  for  me  away  from  you.  Poor  little  Charles  wept 
so  bitterly,  his  unrestrained  grief  cut  me  to  the  soul.  All  the 
evening  he  kept  telling  me  that  he  could  not  believe  he 
should  not  see  you  in  the  morning.  At  last  he  was  so  dis- 
tressed that  I  was  obliged  to  try  and  amuse  him,  and  only 
succeeded  by  taking  him  to  the  theatre.  .  .  . 

I  came  here  to  St.  Cloud,  yesterday  morning,  and  found 
everybody  preparing  for  departure ;  this  made  me  think  of 
yours.  They  start  to-morrow,  and  I  return  to  Paris  this  even- 
ing.   I  do  not  want  to  stay  here,  or  to  see  anybody  ;  it  would 

to  be  crowned  King  of  Italy.  His  First  Chamberlain  had  to  start  a  few  days 
earlier,  to  make  the  necessary  preparations,  taking  with  him  the  Imperial  insig- 
nia and  the  crown  diamonds.  It  was  during  this  journey  to  Italy  that  the  fol- 
lowing letters  were  written.  My  father  retained  a  keen  recollection  of  the  emo- 
tions of  this  leave-taking,  and  wrote  the  following  memorandum  on  the  subject, 
toward  the  close  of  his  life :  "  A  journey  to  Italy,  the  passage  of  Mont  Cenis, 
and  indeed  any  kind  of  traveling,  was  at  that  time,  by  reason  of  the  badness  and 
insecurity  of  the  roads,  a  much  greater  affair  than  at  the  present  day.  My 
mother,  who  took  everything  seriously,  and  was  an  enthusiastic  and  romantic 
woman,  and  who,  moreover,  had  never  considered  the  positive  side  of  life,  greatly 
exaggerated  it  besides ;  and  as  her  imagination  gave  the  key-note  to  us  all,  I 
looked  upon  a  leave-taking,  or  an  absence,  or  a  journey,  as  a  catastrophe,  or 
almost  as  a  family  mourning.  At  that  time  there  prevailed  a  tone  of  sentiment 
or  affection  on  all  subjects,  which  at  the  present  day  would  appear  affected,  but 
which  was,  nevertheless,  perfectly  sincere,  and  perhaps  indicated  finer  moral 
qualities  than  the  cynical  irony  of  our  generation." 


32  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  REM  US  AT. 

only  make  me  weep,  and  make  people  think  I  am  sorry 
because  they  are  going  away.  The  Empress  is  in  a  state  of 
perturbation  which  prevents  me  from  seeing  much  of  her. 
However,  she  seemed  pleased  to  have  me  here  these  last  two 
days.  N"o  one  could  form  an  idea  of  the  confusion  that  pre- 
vails. Every  place  is  encumbered ;  no  one  knows  to  whom 
to  apply  for  orders,  and  yet  everybody  is  giving  them. 

Amid  this  tumult  Caulaincourt  is  loudly  ordering  that 
the  men-servants  and  the  maids  are  to  be  seized  by  main 
force  and  packed  off.  The  journey  to  Fontainebleau  is  to 
be  made  to-morroAv,  and  on  to  Troyes  on  Tuesday.  General 
Duroc  thinks  that  the  Emperor  will  be  at  Turin  on  the  22d. 
You  will  then  be  much  farther  away,  but  you  will  be  resting 
yourself,  and  I  shall  be  more  at  ease  ;  for  your  journey  dis- 
quiets me — the  roads  are  so  unsafe,  and  then  the  cold  is  so 
intense  !  To-day  we  are  in  mid-winter.  When  I  opened  my 
shutters,  in  order  to  write  to  you,  I  found  everything  covered 
with  snow,  and  I  sorrowfully  reflected  that  you  were  travel- 
ing. I  can  not,  alas !  ask  you  to  be  careful  of  yourself,  for 
this  letter  will  only  reach  you  after  you  have,  I  hope,  es- 
caped all  the  dangers  that  I  dread.  I  am  entering  on  ten 
days  of  terrible  anxiety  ;  the  grief  of  separation  is  not  the 
only  trouble  absence  brings  with  it. 

I  did  not  see  the  Emperor  yesterday ;  he  was  at  work  all 
the  morning,  and  retired  at  eight  o'clock.  Before  closing  my 
letter  I  will  tell  you  if  I  do  see  him,  and  to-morrow  I  will 
just  wish  you  good-morning  before  I  seal. 

Saturday  Evening. 

I  have  passed  a  dreadful  day,  listening  to  people  talking 
of  the  difficulties  of  your  journey,  of  the  want  of  horses,  and 
consequently  the  diminution  of  your  escort,  and  of  the 
wretched  Savoy  roads  and  their  ignorant  postilions.  I  cried 
all  day,  and  I  spend  my  time  in  prayers  for  your  safety,  but 
I  can  not  beg  you  to  be  careful,  for  this  letter  will  not  reach 
you  for  a  long  time.     How  soon  shall  I  hear  from  you  after 


MISaiVINGS.  33 

that  fatal  Mont  Cenis  ?  How  I  must  suffer  until  I  do  !  It 
is  in  these  times  of  anxiety  especially  that  I  feel  how  dear 
you  are,  how  necessary  is  your  existence  to  mine.  Oh,  my 
dearest,  be  careful ;  without  you  I  feel  I  can  not  live. 

I  spent  the  day  at  St.  Cloud,  without,  however,  seeing 
the  Emperor,  who  has  been  continually  at  work,  and  did  not 
make  his  appearance.  The  Empress  has  been  all  kindness, 
but  I  was  in  a  very  unfit  state  to  enjoy  it. 


XIII. 

TO    M.    DE    REMUSAT,    AT    MILAN. 

Paris,  13  Germinal^  Year  XIII. 
Wednesday,  April  3,  1805. 

.  .  .  M.  Salembini  *  wrote  to  me  from  Avallon ;  I  am 
most  grateful  for  his  kindness,  and  rely  on  him  to  make 
up  for  your  laziness  by  his  punctuality.  If  you  have  been 
properly  supplied  with  post-horses,  you  must  have  slept  at 
Lyons  on  Sunday  night ;  but  where  are  you  now  ?  It 
was  thought  at  St.  Cloud  that  you  would  reach  Turin  on 
Friday  ;  but,  for  my  part,  I  do  not  hope  it ;  post-horses  must 
be  scarce  and  the  roads  bad.  I  can  not  think  you  will  reach 
Turin  before  Sunday,  and  only  then  if  no  accident  has  oc- 
curred to  detain  you.  You  see  by  all  I  write  that  I  have  but 
one  idea,  and  I  would  therefore  deny  myself  the  happiness  of 
writing  to  you  and  remain  silent  until  I  am  more  at  ease, 
only  that  you  will  want  to  hear  some  news  of  us.  But  I 
must  try  to  speak  of  other  things,  and  will  avoid,  if  I  can, 
making  you  a  sharer  in  my  trouble.     But  you  must  be  indul- 

*  M.  Salembini  was  a  retired  officer,  whom  my  grandfather  had  taken  with 
him  as  traveling  companion  and  secretary.  This  gave  rise  to  some  difficulties, 
as  will  be  seen,  and  as  has  been  mentioned  in  the  Memoirs.  He  had  a  sister 
and  two  little  girls,  of  whom  more  hereafter. 


34  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  JDE  REMU8AT. 

gent  until  I  know  you  are  at  Turin  ;  until  then  I  have  but 
one  subject  of  thought. 

The  next  thing  will  be  to  regard  my  fears  as  presenti- 
ments !  But  hitherto  I  know  to  what  to  attribute  them, 
and  when  I  am  calmer  I  will  tell  you  why  your  absence  is 
more  painful  to  me  this  time  than  ever  before,  and  why  I 
am  absolutely  unhappy  without  you. 

The  Emperor  left  Fontainebleau  this  morning ;  the  Arch- 
chancellor,  whom  I  met  at  Mme.  Devanies's,  told  me  he 
believed  the  Emperor's  absence  would  last  three  months, 
although  his  Majesty  had  told  him  he  should  be  back  at 
the  end  of  two,  that  he  had  no  intention  of  visiting  the  de- 
partments of  the  south,  and  that  the  Empress  expected  to 
return  on  June  15th.  If  no  special  accident  happens  to  you, 
through  your  mode  of  traveling,  I  shall  be  very  glad  that 
you  have  gone  on  first.  You  can  have  no  idea  of  the  confu- 
sion and  disorder  this  journey  is  entailing ;  yours  was  noth- 
ing at  all  in  comparison.  Everybody  is  grumbling  and  al- 
ready tired  out,  and  they  must  thank  God  if  they  all  come 
back  safe.  He  knows  what  I  ask  of  Him.  You  first,  and 
then  the  master  of  us  all.  But  I  need  not  make  myself  anx- 
ious on  his  account ;  there  are  plenty  of  persons  devoted  to 
him,  and  eager  to  bring  him  back  safe  to  us.  It  is  for  your 
health  and  your  enjoyment  that  all  my  prayers  are  offered  ; 
first,  that  you  may  meet  with  no  accident,  and  then  that  you 
may  enjoy  yourself.  Yes,  my  dearest,  enjoy  yourself ;  I 
love  you  enough  to  wish  that  you  may  be  amused.  Let  me 
bear  all  the  pain  of  separation,  so  that  your  share  be  the 
pleasure  of  the  journey.  I  shall  be  quite  satisfied  with  this 
division. 

I  inclose  a  letter  from  Mile.  Mars ;  *  Corvisart  asks 
your  attention  to  it.  He  is  to  start  in  about  three  weeks, 
and  will  tell  you  how  he  leaves  me.  If  my  mind  were  at 
ease,  I  should  be  pretty  well. 

*  It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  say  that  Mile.  Mars  was  the  well-known  tragic 
actress,  then  at  the  zenith  of  her  beauty  and  talents. 


REGRETS.  35 

Adieu.  I  will  write  no  more,  because  I  can  but  repeat 
myself.  I  will  chatter  away  when  my  anxiety  is  relieved ; 
until  then,  I  will  only  write  in  order  to  say  that  I  love  you 
and  am  well  in  health.  I  may  say  the  same  for  Charles ; 
Albert  is  getting  on  wonderfully ;  my  mother  scolds  me, 
sends  you  her  love,  and  says  she  ought  to  have  been  an  old 
maid. 


XIY. 

Paris,  Saturday,  16  Germinal,  Year  XIII. 
{April  6,  1S05.) 

I  HAD  need  of  your  letter.  I  was  widowed  and  lonely, 
and  my  days  hung  heavily.  I  feel  better  now ;  your  letter 
will  keep  me  company.  You  know  that  I  shall  put  it  quite 
near  me  at  night,  that  I  may  fall  asleep  thinking  of  you,  and 
awake  with  the  same  thought  in  the  morning.  Oh,  how  sad 
a  thing  is  absence !  and  to  what  end  ?  Men  throw  away  their 
happiness  as  they  do  their  money ;  they  squander  both  on  an 
uncertain  future,  to  which  they  sacrifice  the  present,  which 
only  is  their  own.  They  lose  three  or  four  months  in  a  year 
living  far  away  from  those  they  love  ;  they  take  change  for 
their  gold  without  looking  at  it ;  and  life  and  fortune  alike 
pass  away  from  them  unnoticed. 

This  is  my  third  letter  to  you  since  you  left  me ;  but  I 
do  not  feel  great  pleasure  in  writing,  because  my  thoughts 
are  always  fixed  on  the  dangers  of  your  journey.  In  ten  or 
twelve  days'  time,  when  I  know  you  are  safe  at  Milan,  and  I 
can  rest  from  all  your  bad  nights,  your  joltings,  and  your 
shakings,  if  not  the  worse  accidents  of  which  I  tremble  to 
think,  then  I  can  chat  with  you  unrestrainedly ;  I  shall  have 
no  other  pleasure  but  that  of  writing  to  you,  of  telling  you 
about  our  children,  about  myself,  the  happiness  I  owe  you, 
my  most  tender  love,  and,  above  all,  of  the  confidence  I  feel 
in  your  affection  for  me,  which  is  the  foundation  of  all  my  joy. 


36  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  REMUSAT. 

The  Emperor  is  on  the  road  since  Tuesday,  cind  was  to 
sleep  last  night  at  Sernur ;  *  he  travels  slowly,  although  people 
say  he  is  pressed  for  time.  The  want  of  occupation  to  which 
I  am  reduced  by  his  absence  and  yours,  is  something  new. 
I  should  be  lazy  enough  to  like  it,  if  you  were  here  with  me. 
I  have  thrown  myself  into  the  society  of  the  Faubourg,f  with- 
out, however,  neglecting  that  other  faubourg  X  to  Avhicli  I  owe 
a  duty.  To-morrow  and  the  next  day  I  shall  take  leave  of 
the  Princesses ;  then  I  shall  spend  a  week  making  a  round  of 
visits,  after  which  I  shall  pay  no  more  until  you  are  with  me. 
On  May  1st  I  go  to  Sannois,  whence  I  shall,  once  a  week, 
bring  Charles  to  M.  Halma.  Mme.  d'Houdetot  *  insists  on 
having  the  whole  family  with  her.  I  intend  returning  to 
Paris  in  June,  and  you,  I  hope,  will  decide  what  we  are  to  do 
in  July. 

I  have  now  given  you  an  accurate  account  of  my  actions. 
If  you  wish  for  news  of  my  thoughts,  I  may  say  that  they 
will  be  entirely  of  you,  for  Charles  is  my  principal  occupa- 
tion, and  naturally  leads  me  to  think  of  his  father.  Once 
more  let  me  repeat  that,  when  my  anxiety  is  reheved,  I  will 
Avrite  to  you  about  him,  the  progress  he  makes,  and  his  little 
brother's  health.  Until  then  all  is  stifled,  and  my  heart  tor- 
tured by  anxiety ;  I  get  through  the  days,  not  in  order  to 
reach  the  happy  one  of  your  return — it  is  too  far  off,  I  dare 
not  think  of  it — but  to  reach  that  one  when  you  will  write, 
"My  dear  one,  I  have  arrived  and  am  well."  Picture  to 
yourself,  if  you  can,  how  these  words  will  be  received,  and 
then  say,  if  you  dare,  that  you  are  not  loved  as  you  deserve. 

*  Semur,  chief  place  of  a  district  in  the  department  of  Cote-d'Or,  on  the  road 
to  Italy. 

f  The  Faubourg  St.  Germain. 

X  The  Faubourg  St.  Honore,  where  most  of  the  Government  officials  resided. 

*  Mme.  d'Houdetot,  the  same  mentioned  by  J.  J.  Rousseau  in  his  "  Confes- 
sions," although  already  aged  and  in  very  moderate  circumstances,  had  a  country- 
house  according  to  the  old  style  at  Sannois,  where  she  entertained  a  numerous 
and  distingiiished  company.  It  was  one  of  the  places  where  the  scholarly  society 
of  the  eighteenth  century  still  survived  and  lived  again.  She  is  spoken  of  at 
great  length  in  the  Memoirs. 


A  MOTHER-IN-LAW.  37 

My  mother  embraces  you.  She  makes  charming  com- 
plaints of  her  misfortune  in  having  daughters ;  she  says  that 
she  is  no  sooner  easy  about  the  ruts  on  your  road,  than  her 
sympathy  is  claimed  for  the  inundations  on  M.  de  N^an- 
souty's.*  She  writes  to  her  friends,  begging  them  not  to 
leave  her  a  prey  to  our  dismal  lamentations,  but  is  so  kind- 
hearted  in  reality,  that  she  always  ends  by  sharing  our 
anxiety.  Morning  and  evening  we  look  through  the  "  Post 
Guide,"  and  alarm  ourselves  at  any  sign  of  the  "fourth 
horse " ;  f  we  make  inquiries  in  every  direction  as  to  the 
dangers  of  the  route ;  there  is,  I  know,  between  Chambery 
and  Mont  Cenis,  a  bad  road,  with  snow  and  steep  descents, 
and  no  wall  on  the  outer  edge.  Did  you  leave  the  carriage 
at  all  those  bad  places  ?  Did  you  think  of  your  wife,  whose 
life  depends  upon  your  health,  and  who  could  not  bear  up 
against  any  addition  to  her  troubles  ?  I  expect  you  will  find 
all  this  very  tiresome  reading,  these  dangers  being  already  in 
the  past.  But  what  can  I  do  ?  It  would  be  easy  to  prove  to 
each  of  us  that  we  are  really  happy  and  really  understand 
each  other,  only  when  we  are  not  parted. 


XY. 


TO   M.    DE   KEMUSAT,    A.T   MILAN. 

Paris,  Wednesday^  20  Ocrminal^  Year  XIII. 
(April  10,  1S05.) 

After  thoroughly  enjoying  your  letter  from  Lyons,  I 
have  fallen  back  into  a  state  of  nervous  anxiety,  which  will  on- 
ly cease,  as  I  have  already  told  you,  when  I  get  a  letter  from 
you  from  Turin.     You  must  be  there,  I  think,  now.  .  .  . 

*  General  Nansouty  was  then  on  his  way  home  from  Hanover. 

f  In  those  days  an  extra  horse  used  to  be  charged  for  by  the  postmasters, 
and  called  the  third  ov  the  fourth  horse,  when  the  road  was  heavy  or  fatiguing. 
This  horse  was  paid  for,  but  was  never  harnessed  or  seen. 


38  LETTERS   OF  MADAME  DE  REMUSAT. 

The  weather  here  is  splendid  ;  you  must  be  enjoying  \\\q 
beautiful  Italian  spring,  and  I  hope  such  a  lovely  climate  will 
reward  you  for  all  your  trouble  in  getting  to  it.  Enjoy  it 
all,  my  dearest,  the  beautiful  scenery  and  the  pure  sky ;  I 
love  you  sufficiently  to  wish  you  may  have  pleasure,  although 
far  from  me.  I  know  so  well  in  what  you  place  your  happi- 
ness, that  I  do  not  desire  any  proof  of  your  regrets  that 
would  interfere  with  your  enjoyment  of  the  journey.  There 
is  one  kind  of  amusement  only  tliat  I  can  not,  in  conscience, 
allow  you,  and  I  trust  you  will  know  how  to  resist  any  whis- 
pers of  mio  'bene  that  may  be  offered  to  you  emphasized  by 
sweet  voices  and  bright  eyes. 

I  hope  your  first  care  was  to  write  to  me  from  Turin. 
Indeed,  it  is  necessary  to  me ;  for  to  be  ignorant  of  the  fate 
of  him  I  love  best  in  the  woi'ld  is  a  very  heavy  burden.  But 
I  am  again  complaining  !  I  do  wish  to  spare  you  my  lamen- 
tations ;  I  strive  against  them  as  much  as  possible,  but  I  can 
not  command  my  feehngs.  How  truly  I  feel  that  you  are 
my  life  and  my  all,  and  that  if  sometimes  the  hours  fly  past 
without  my  appreciating  your  beloved  presence  as  I  ought, 
it  is  because  our  poor  human  nature  uses  happiness  as  it  uses 
health :  we  learn  its  full  value  only  when  some  accident  de- 
prives us  of  it. 

I  must  tell  you,  by  way  of  diverting  my  thoughts,  that 
M.  Guys  *  has  gone  at  last,  that  the  Emperor  left  the  affair  in 
the  hands  of  the  Archchancellor,  and  that  it  was  settled  on 
the  spot.  They  are  a  fortunate  family,  and  your  sister  shares 
in  their  happiness.  By-the-way,  she  is  sorry  that  you  did 
not  take  Josephin  f  with  you,  and  so  am  I.  He  M'ould  have 
been  one  more  man,  and  the  dangers  you  have  been  exposed 
to,  owing  to  the  treasure  in  your  charge,:}:  have  not  been  the 
least  of  my  anxieties,  especially  as  the  newspapers  very  stu- 

*  M.  Guys  belonged  to  a  Marseilles  family,  many  members  of  which  have 
distinguished  themselves  as  consuls  in  the  Levant. 
■)•  Josephin  de  Foresta,  his  nephew. 
\  The  crown  diamonds  and  the  regalia. 


CONCERNING   COURT  DRESS.  39 

pidly  announced  your  departure.  Everybody  thouglit  this 
very  imprudent. 

If  you  would  like  news  of  your  ti'ipot,  I  can  tell  you  that 
M.  Cheron's  piece  was  a  great  success  ;  *  that  it  is  in  excellent 
verse,  that  two  acts  are  extremely  clever,  that  everybody 
speaks  well  of  it,  that  Geoffroy  praises  it  highly,  and  that 
we  hope  you  will  call  the  proper  attention  to  it  at  the 
right  opportunity.  I  have  no  further  information  respecting 
the  comedy ;  my  door  has  been  closed  against  all  actors  and 
actresses  since  your  departure,  and  I  begged  Maherault  to  say 
that  I  was  not  in  Paris. 

I  send  you  some  memoranda  on  the  unfortunate  affair  of 
M.  de  Yilleblanche.  When  you  see  Maret,  tell  him  I  was 
much  obliged  by  his  letter,  but  that  in  informing  me  that 
Mme.  de  Latouche  had  obtained  a  pension  of  three  thousand 
francs,  he  does  not  fulfill  his  engagements  with  me,  because 
that  lady  is  step-mother  to  the  Admiral,  being  the  second  wife 
of  his  father,  and  that  I  am  petitioning  for  Mme.  de  Treville, 
his  aunt.  I  see  that  Maret,  and  consequently  the  Emperor, 
has  confounded  the  two,  and  thus  I  have  unintentionally  ob- 
tained a  favor  for  a  lady  whom  I  do  not  know. 


XYI. 

TO   M.    DE    REMUSAT,    AT   MILAN. 

Paris,  Saturday^  22  Gcrnmial,  Year  XIII. 
{April  12,  1S05.) 

I  SAW  Isabey  \  this  morning.     Your  mantles  will  be  sent 
off  next  Saturday.     He  has  lost  no  time,  and  seemed  to  me 

*  M.  Ch6ron,  a  great  friend  of  my  parents,  wrote  a  i)iccc  in  imitation  of 
"  The  School  for  Scandal,"  called  "  Le  Tartufe  des  Moeurs."  The  play  was  so 
good,  that  the  Emperor  appointed  the  author  to  the  Prefecture  of  La  Vienne. 
lie  and  Picard  were  joint  authors  of  the  comedy  of  "  Duhautcours." 

f  Isabey,  the  artist,  was  designing  the  embroidery  for  the  Court  dresses. 


40  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  BE  R^MWSAT. 

rather  annoyed  at  having  to  go ;  he  no  longer  cares  about  it. 
The  Princess  Elisa*  will  start  on  Thursday.  I  went  to  see 
her  the  day  before  yesterday  ;  she  was  alone,  and  had  given 
orders  that  I  should  be  admitted.  I  remained  Math  her  an 
hour  and  a  half ;  she  was  most  kind.  When  you  see  her 
you  can  say  that  I  told  you ;  she  is  really  very  amiable. 

I  must  tell  you,  in  confidence,  something  that  happened 
to  Carrion-Nisas  and  Kegnault  de  Saint-Jean  d'Angely,  f 
which  is  is  just  now  amusing  all  Paris.  The  day  before  the 
Emperor's  departure,  they  each  received  an  autograph  letter 
from  the  Chamberlains  on  duty^  requesting  their  attendance 
that  same  evening  at  Fontainebleau.  The  Emperor  had  sent 
for  them.  You  may  imagine  their  state  of  excitement,  each 
rushing  to  M.  de  Lavalette,  asking  for  horses,  and  making  as 
much  fuss  as  you  please.  They  set  off  at  about  nine  in  the 
evening.  Carrion  was  the  first  to  reach  Fontainebleau ;  no 
Chamberlain  to  be  seen,  but  Diiroc  comes  forward,  and,  after 
inspecting  the  proffered  letter,  goes  to  the  Emperor  to  an- 
nounce him.  "  I  did  not  send  for  him,"  said  his  Majesty ;  "  it 
is  some  mistake ;  I  have  not  time  to  see  him.  Put  him  up 
somewhere,  and  he  can  go  back  in  the  morning."  Carrion 
laughs  over  his  nocturnal  drive,  and  retires  very  good-humor- 
edly.  At  midnight  a  second  carriage  dashes  up,  Regnault 
springs  out,  asks  for  M.  Duroc,  to  whom  he  hands  his  letter, 
and  is  announced  to  the  Emperor.  "  Depend  upon  it,  it  is  a 
poisson  (VAvril^''  %  says  the  latter.  M.  Duroc  emerges  from 
the  cabinet.  "  It  is  a  poisson  cVAvril,^'  he  says.  Regnault 
dashes  headlong  into  his  carriage,  and  drives  full  speed 
back  to  Paris,  to  find  out  who  has  played  this  trick.  The 
postilions,  who  had  not  had  an  easy  time  of  it  in  coming  to 
Fontainebleau,  so  great  had  been  his  eagerness  to  get  on, 

*  Elisa  Bacciochi,  the  Emperor's  sister. 

f  Regnault  de  Saint-Jean  d'Angely  was  President  of  the  Council  of  State. 
Carrion-Nisas,  first  an  officer,  then  a  Tribune,  and  then  again  in  the  army,  was 
born  in  1767.     He  died  at  Montpellier  in  1841. 

X  April  fool. 


NEWS  FROM  TURIN.  41 

repeat,  as  tbey  crack  their  whips,  "It's  2^ poisson  d^AvrilP'' 
The  Minister  of  Police  says  the  same  thing,  and  it  is  very 
soon  echoed  by  all  Paris.  I  say  so  too ;  but  you  must  not 
mention  it  at  Milan,  for  the  Etnperor  was,  very  justly,  dis- 
pleased with  this  stupid  joke. 

I  inclose  a  poetical  petition  from  a  young  man  who  has 
called  on  me  a  few  times  since  you  left — M.  Morel  de  Clin- 
chamji.  He  tells  me  you  received  him  kindly,  and  promised 
him  your  patronage,  and  he  wants  his  petition  to  be  present- 
ed to  the  Emperor  by  the  Empress,  together  with  the  little 
poem  that  I  send  you.  He  has  written  me  some  verses 
too;  he  seems  to  possess  facility  and  some  talent,  if  I  may 
judge  by  an  epistle  he  showed  me,  addressed  to  Mile.  Duclies- 
nois.  Do  as  you  think  fit  about  the  petition ;  but  I  promised 
to  commend  it  to  you. 


XYH. 

TO   M.  DE   EEMUSAT,    AT   MILAN. 

Paris,  Tuesday,  26  Go-minal,  Year  XIII. 
{April  16,  1S05.) 

At  last  I  have  news  from  Turin ;  yesterday  I  received  a 
packet  from  M.  Salembini,  which  has  made  me  very  happy. 
You  have  crossed  those  dreadful  mountains,  and  that  terrible 
Mont  Cenis  that  caused  me  so  much  anxiety,  and  for  the  last 
six  days  you  have  been  quietly  at  Milan.  I  hope  you  will  now 
be  thinking  of  writing  to  me,  for  since  you  left  home,  nine- 
teen days  ago,  I  have  liad  only  one  little  letter;  you  rely  too 
much  on  the  zeal  of  your  secretary.  .  .  . 

I  must  tell  you  that  in  my  next  parcel  I  intend  to  inclose 
a  letter  to  the  Empress,  in  which  I  shall  repeat  part  of  what 
I  said  in  the  one  I  wrote  to  her  some  time  ago,  and  which  I 
did  not  send.     You  will  read  it,  and  then  seal  it  up,  because 


42  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  REM  US  AT. 

I  don't  want  you  to  seem  to  know  anything  about  it.  If  you 
approve,  you  will  give  the  sealed  parcel  to  Deschamps,  at  any 
time  you  think  fit. 


XYIII. 

TO   M.  DE   KEMUSAT,    AT   MILAN. 

Paris,  29  Germinal,  Yea7-  XIII. 
{Friday,  April  19,  1S05.) 

When  this  letter  reaches  you,  you  will  be  with  the  Em- 
peror. The  newspapers  say  that  he  is  to  arrive  at  Milan  on 
1  Prairial.*  It  would  apj^ear,  therefore,  that  his  progress  is 
more  rapid  than  was  intended  at  first.  People  are  wondering 
here  what  can  be  the  cause  of  such  haste,  and,  as  they  are 
never  at  a  loss,  the  Parisians  are  saying  that  preparations  for 
war  will  bring  you  all  back  sooner  than  was  expected.  To 
see  the  delight  which  some  persons  take  in  confirming  these 
rumors  of  war,  one  would  never  think  that  Frenchmen  were 
to  be  engaged  in  it.  Thus  it  is  that  party  spirit  destroys 
every  generous  sentiment.  Talking  of  sentiment,  we  had  a 
little  dispute  yesterday  morning  with  mamma  and  a  few  other 
persons  ;  one  must  quarrel  sometimes,  you  know.  We  were 
speaking  of  the  love  of  country,  and  my  mother  contended, 
half  in  jest,  that  there  was  no  such  thing  as  love  of  country ; 
that  it  was  simply  a  fine  theoretical  sentiment,  and  that,  for 
her  part,  she  should  always  prefer  the  country  in  which  she 
was  happiest,  to  any  other.  Mme.  de  Yintimille  and  I  argued, 
like  good  Frenchwomen,  on  behalf  of  love  of  one's  country, 
and  declared  that  we  had  our  share,  although  it  was  but  a 
small  one,  in  the  glory  of  the  nation.  My  mother  was  amus- 
ing herself  by  displaying  the  greatest  indifference  to  our  fine 
sentiments,  when  all  at  once  Charles,  who  had  been  playing 

*  The  Emperor  reached  Milan  some  days  earlier  than  this,  on  18  Floreal 
(May  8th),  instead  of  1  Prairial  (May  21,  1805). 


PATRIOTISM.  43 

in  a  corner,  got  up,  and  approaching  his  grandmother,  said  to 
her  in  a  tone  that  I  can  not  describe  to  you,  "  O  Gaga,  don't 
you  love  your  country?"  and  then  he  burst  into  tears.  I 
can  not  explain  why  he  was  so  much  moved,  but  the  saying 
gave  me  pleasure,  and  I  pass  it  on  to  you. 

I  took  him  to  the  theatre  yesterday  evening,  and  was  quite 
pleased  with  his  behavior  during  the  performance  of  "  La 
Caverne,"  in  Avhich  tliere  is  much  noise  of  firearms,  and  a 
very  exciting  combat  in  the  last  scene.  The  boy  did  not 
show  the  least  fear  of  the  firing ;  his  little  face  turned  rather 
red,  because  of  the  restraint  he  put  upon  himself,  but  he  came 
well  out  of  the  ordeal. 

While  on  the  subject  of  plays,  1  wrote  to  you,  did  I  not, 
about  M.  Cheron's  ?  It  is  most  successful ;  at  the  fourth  per- 
formance the  author  was  still  called  for ;  try  to  make  the  most 
of  this.  Only  two  days  ago,  Kegnault  de  Saint-Jean  d'An- 
gely  said  that  the  play  was  by  a  man  not  only  talented  but 
good ;  that  M.  Cheron  was  a  most  estimable  character,  and 
liad  acted  an  upright  part  all  through  the  Eevolution. 

I  have  seen  Maherault ;  your  actors  are  constantly  asking 
him  for  leave  of  absence.  They  would  like  to  come  to  me, 
but  I  have  declined  to  receive  them,  thinking  you  would  pre- 
fer my  taking  this  course.  I  only  saw  Mme.  Suin,*  whose 
benefit-night  was  very  brilliant,  and  who  came  to  thank  me. 
I  found  her  a  really  clever  woman  ;  she  told  me  a  great  deal 
about  the  Comedie  Frangaise,  and  of  the  advantages  belong- 
ing to  such  a  post  as  yours.  "  In  fact,"  said  she,  pointedly, 
"  since  I  have  lived  in  Paris,  I  have  seen  many  ministers  and 
many  courtiers  fall  into  disgrace,  but  the  gentlemen  of  the 
Chamber  have  always  been  in  favor,  and  the  post  of  pur- 
veyor of  amusement,  held  by  M.  de  Kemusat,  is  almost  always 
a  road  to  fortune."     I  got  out  of  Mme.  Suin's  benefit  very 

*Mmc,  Suin  had  come  out  at  the  Comedie  Franijaise  in  1775,  as  aleading  ac- 
tress ;  at  the  end  of  her  career  she  undertook  the  noble  mothers  and  the  trafjedy 
confidants.  The  performance  in  question  was  her  farewell  to  the  stage.  She 
was  an  intelliKcnt  and  estimable  woman. 


44  LETTERS   OF  MADAME  DE  R^MUSAT. 

well ;  I  did  not  go  ;  and  I  found  some  people  to  fill  raj  box 
and  pay  mv  share  of  the  benefit. 

In  twelve  days  from  tliis,  I  am  to  take  up  mv  abode  at 
Sannois.*  I  intend  to  see  Lavalette  to-morrow  to  try  and 
obtain  an  exception  for  my  letters ;  I  shall  tell  him  that  you 
often  receive  letters  on  the  affairs  of  the  Emperor,  and  that 
you  require  me  to  answer  yours  at  once.  If  I  can  obtain 
nothing  from  him,  I  shall  ask  Mme.  de  Segur  to  take  charge 
of  my  letters.  I  intend  to  pass  the  month  of  May,  with  the 
children,  at  Sannois ;  the  country  wiU  do  us  all  good.  .  .  . 


XIX. 

TO   Sr.    DE    KEMUSAT,    AT   5IILAN. 

Paris,  Tuesday,  3  Floreal,  Year  XIII. 
{April  24,  1805.) 

Before  replying  to  all  the  interesting  details  you  give 
me,  with  an  account  of  the  dull  tiifles  that  fiU  up  my  life,  I 
must  tell  you  how  orrateful  I  am  for  the  aflfection  of  which 
you  so  tenderly  assure  me,  and  how  happy  I  am  to  be  so 
greatly  beloved.  Every  word  that  you  write  prints  itself  on 
my  heart  with  all  the  force  with  which  it  emanates  from 
yours.  However  strong  your  expressions,  I  believe  them  to 
be  true.  I  say  to  myself  that  happiness  exists  for  us  only 
when  we  are  together,  that  we  need  each  other's  presence, 
and  that,  though  now  separated,  we  are  so  continually  to- 
gether in  spirit,  that  we  shall  meet  again  in  a  few  months' 
time  without  a  moment's  interruption  of  that  feeling  which 
makes  the  happiness  of  my  existence.  My  dearest,  put  the 
same  faith  in  my  tender  affection  that  I  put  in  yours.  Your 
absence  and  my  loneliness  make  me  feel  how  limitless  it  is. 
The  long  days,  the  sad  nights  that  I  pass  without  you,  the 

*  Mme.  d'Houdetut's  well-known  country  place. 


PRINCESS  ELISA.  45 

solitude  of  my  room,  the  study  where  you  are  not,  tlie  big 
empty  rooms,  the  entire  liberty  which  I  know  not  how  to 
employ — all  these  things  continually  draw  my  thoughts  to- 
ward you,  while  numberless  circumstances  must  turn  yours 
away  from  me.  I^  speak  and  think  and  feel  like  La  Fon- 
taine's pigeon,  ''  U absence  est  le  plus  grand  des  maux^''  and 
especially  for  the  one  who  is  left  behind. 

You  are  good  to  give  me  so  many  details ;  I  quite  appre- 
ciate them.  I  am  surprised  at  what  you  say  of  the  weather ; 
I  fancied  you  were  in  mid-spring,  and  the  accounts  of  the 
snow  and  the  cold  at  Turin  upset  all  our  calculations.  We 
had  some  splendid  weather  here,  and  during  Holy  Week  a 
taste  of  perfect  summer,  but  for  the  last  week  it  has  been 
cold  again  Thus  it  is  with  life  ;  a  little  sunshine  and  then 
the  cold  returns,  to  last  much  longer  than  the  warmth. 
Everything  changes  and  passes  away,  excej^t  your  affection 
and  consequently  my  happiness. 

If  you  care  ior  petoffes,  as  Mme.  de  Sevigne  would  say,  I 
must  tell  you  that  Mme.  de  Souza  has  at  length  taken  her 
dei)arture,  but  in  great  distress  because  M.  de  Souza  refused 
to  take  Charles  de  Flahault  with  him.  As  a  stranger,  and 
also  as  an  ambassador,  he  thought  that  would  not  have  been 
a  pradent  step.  Our  friends  are  all  in  confusion,  and  don't 
know  where  to  settle  down.  Gallois  has  not  yet  appeared ; 
M.  Leroi  is  going  away  ;  Bertrand  is  half  crying,  half  laugh- 
ing, over  the  departure  of  Count  Eumford,  who  has  returned 
to  Munich  to  preside  over  some  academy  or  other,  and  so  has 
left  the  field  free  to  others.  The  Abbe  Morellet  is,  I  fancy, 
rather  struck  with  Princess  Elisa.*  She  was  uncommonly 
gracious  to  him,  and  even  told  him  to  write  to  her.  Do  not 
forget  to  remember  me  to  the  princess. 

Our  friends  the  Cherons  have  gone  ;  don't  forget  them. 
M.  Cheron's  play  is  more  popular  than  ever ;  try  to  get  a 
place  for  him.     Now  that  the  Forests  are  being  established, 

*  Princess  Elisa  Baeciochi,  Grand-Diichess  of  Lucca,  was  of  a  literary  turn, 
and  associated  with  very  distinguished  people. 


46  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  REJMUSAT. 

and  the  Imperial  Hunts  and  Capitaineries*  there  must  be 
some  opening.  Bo  not  be  vexed  with  me  for  adding  my  im- 
portunities to  those  with  which  you  are  ah-eady  overwhelmed. 

I  do  not  know  whether  you  see  any  French  newspapers. 
If  you  do,  you  will  have  read  a  circumstantial  account  of 
the  Emperor's  extreme  graciousness  at  Brienne.f  Mme.  de 
Brienne  was  beside  herself  with  delight.  It  is  true  that  it 
would  be  impossible  to  be  more  gracious  than  was  the  Em- 
peror on  that  occasion.  I  saw  some  letters  to  M.  de  Damas, 
full  of  charming  little  speeches  made  by  him  ;  he  laid  himself 
out  to  be  agreeable,  and  the  effect  has  been  excellent  in  our 
critical  society.  Our  severest  lady  critics  owned  the  amia- 
bility of  our  sovereign,  and  they  are  willing  now  to  admit 
that  he  can  make  himself  pleasant  when  he  likes,  but  they 
add  that  he  does  not  always  like.  What  a  treatise  I  could 
write  on  human  vanity  !  What  examples  I  could  find  in  the 
very  society  that  values  itself  so  highly  !  There  is  not  one 
woman  of  our  acquaintance  who  would  not  have  been  as 
much  enchanted  as  Mme.  de  Brienne,  yet  they  are  all  laugh- 
ing at  her  enthusiasm. 

Salembini  writes  to  me  about  the  shells  and  mosaics  of 
Milan.  With  regard  to  the  latter,  General  Caffarelli  X  sug- 
gested, after  you  had  gone,  that  I  should  allow  him  to  order 
a  set  for  me  at  Eome,  saying  that  those  he  had  brought  to  his 
wife  are  veiy  handsome,  and  had  only  cost  twenty-five  louis. 
I  agreed,  and  asked  him  to  mention  it  to  you.  Please  ask 
him  for  the  little  memorandum  I  gave  him,  and  if  you  find 
that  the  set  will  come  to  too  high  a  price,  you  might  leave 
out  the  tiara  and  the  bracelets.  When  we  were  at  St.  Cloud, 
I  told  the  Empress  that  General  CaffarelH  had  undertaken  to 

*  "  Autrefois  charge  de  capitaine  dcs  chasses." — Littre, 

t  Mme.  de  Brienuc,  niece  to  the  Archbishop  of  Sens,  was  related  to  the  Da- 
mas family.  The  Emperor,  wishing  to  revisit  bis  old  military  school,  had  spent 
some  hours  at  the  Chateau  de  Brienne. 

}:  General  Augustus  Caffarelli,  aide-de-camp  to  the  Emperor,  died  a  peer  of 
France,  later  than  1830.  He  was  the  youngest  of  five  brothers.  The  eldest 
died  a  few  years  ago,  Councilor-General  of  the  Hautc-Garonne. 


MARMONTEVS  MEMOIRS.  47 

bring  liome  mosaics  for  Alix  and  myself  ;  tliereupon  slie  very 
kindly  said  she  would  take  that  upon  herself,  so  you  may  con- 
sult her  on  the  selection. 

Adieu,  since  one  nnist  always  end  with  that  sad  word.  I 
was  reading  to-day  one  of  Massillon's  sermons,  a  favorite  of 
mine,  on  the  best  way  to  bear  the  afflictions  of  this  life,  and 
on  the  thanks  we  should  return  to  God  when  he  vouchsafes 
to  try  our  faith  by  the  sorrows  he  sends  us.  After  that  I 
can  not  but  endeavor  to  submit  to  the  grief  of  separation,  but 
I  am  far  from  having  arrived  at  perfection.  .  .  . 


XX. 


TO   M.    DE   EEMUSAT,    AT   MILAN. 

Paris,  Sunday,  8  Floreal,  Year  XIII. 
(April  28,  1805.) 

...  I  UAVE  just  been  reading  Marmontel's  Memoirs 
of  the  Regency.  You  may  perhaps  have  the  work  at  Milan  ; 
it  seems  to  me  well  written,  but  ill  conceived.  I  am  quite 
shocked  at  the  judgment  he  passes  on  Louis  XIY.  lie  speaks 
of  him  with  severity,  that  contrasts  with  his  indulgence  to- 
ward the  Regent.  If  you  read  the  work,  remark  the  pas- 
sage he  quotes  from  Saint-Simon,  concerning  the  "  Bed  of  Jus- 
tice "  that  was  held,  to  remove  the  education  of  Louis  XV. 
out  of  the  hands  of  the  Due  du  Maine,  and  to  restore  prece- 
dence to  the  peers  over  the  legitimized  children  of  the  King. 
The  malignant  joy  felt  by  the  Duke,  not  only  at  this  victory, 
but  at  the  grief  and  depression  of  the  vanquished  party,  the 
intoxication  of  vanity  which  he  owns  to  having  experienced 
— all  those  disgraceful  passions,  engendered  by  the  pride  of 
man,  disgusted  me  so  much,  that  I  felt  quite  sick  of  ambition 
and  its  aims.  Far  from  us  be  all  enjoyment  procured  at  the 
expense  of  others  !  We  can  be  happy,  I  hope,  at  a  less  cost, 
and  without  causing  a  single  tear  to  iiuw  on  our  account. 


48  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  R^MUSAT. 

M.  de  Salembini  writes  that  you  are  suJGfering  slightly 
from  gout ;  this,  added  to  your  silence,  makes  me  uneasy. 
At  such  a  distance  everything  becomes  magnified,  and  I  feel 
that,  against  my  reason,  I  am  needlessly  anxious.  Mme.  De- 
values, who  came  to  see  me  yesterday,  says  conjugal  affection 
makes  me  very  tiresome ;  but  adds  that  you  must  be  very 
amiable  to  be  so  much  beloved.  She  introduced  her  daugh- 
ter-in-law into  society  yesterday,  and  seemed  rather  proud  of 
being  so  beautiful  herself  and  the  chaperon  of  so  plain  a 
young  woman.*  Her  son  often  comes  to  see  me ;  he  is  sen- 
sible and  kind-hearted.  One  must  overlook  a  few  little  oddi- 
ties that  do  no  harm  to  anybody,  and  then  one  sees  he  is  a 
reasonable  man.  I  like  him.  He  seems  also  to  be  pleased 
to  be  with  me ;  and,  moreover,  he  loves  you  with  his  whole 
heart.  This  last  is  a  recommendation  I  can  not  resist ;  any 
one  who  appreciates  you  has  a  claim  on  my  affection. 

Adieu.  I  am  going  to  pay  some  visits,  because  I  leave 
Paris  in  a  week,  and  must  bid  farewell  to  all  my  friends.  I 
intend  to  remain  all  May  at  Sannois,  and  I  shall  find  there, 
if  I  choose  to  seek  them,  many  sweet  recollections,  and  per- 
haps some  legitimate  regrets. 

I  inclose  a  letter  for  the  Empress,  which  I  should  like 
you  to  hand  to  her  at  once,  and  some  days  before  that  which 
Corvisart  will  take  to  you.  As  for  the  latter,  it  is  undated, 
and  you  can  give  it  when  you  like. 


XXI. 

TO    M.    DE   REMUSAT,    AT   MILAN. 

Paris,  Wednesday,  11  Florml,  Year  XIII. 
{May  1,  1805.) 

.  .  .  There  is  much  talk  now  of  the  Toulon  fleet,  of 
the  wonderful  success  of  all  the  Emperor's  designs,  and  the 

*  M.  Devainea's  first  wife,  Mile.  Malherbe,  was  considered  plain. 


THE  TOULON  FLEET.  49 

extraordinary  incapacity  of  the  Englisli,  in  always  letting  us 
slip  between  their  fingers.  There  are  different  views  on  the 
subject.  It  is  hoped,  generally  speaking,  that  our  two  sorties 
will  have  an  effect  on  the  English  Government,  and  give 
some  chance  of  peace.  On  the  other  hand,  the  gloomy  and 
discontented  politicians  assert  that  the  English  are  only  al- 
lowing us  to  assemble  our  naval  forces  in  order  to  attack  us 
at  sea ;  but,  on  the  whole,  there  is  a  hopeful  feeling.  For  my 
own  part,  you  may  imagine,  from  my  love  of  our  country 
and  my  hatred  of  England,  that  I  am  delighted  at  this  prom- 
ising beginning ;  and  I  must  admit  that  I  assumed  an  air  of 
superiority  toward  certain  Anglo  maniacs  whom  you  know. 

I  have  very  little  social  news  for  you.  There  is  hardly 
anything  going  on  this  season,  and  everybody  is  on  the  eve 
of  departure.  I  can  only  tell  you  of  a  few  marriages,  and 
of  some  interesting  events  that  are  expected  to  come  off. 
Alexandre  Laborde  is  engaged  to  Mme.  Gilbert.*  She  is  a 
very  pretty  woman,  the  widow  of  that  M.  Gilbert  whom  we 
saw  with  Mme.  de  Yannoise.f  Then,  Mme.  Juste  X  is  in  an 
interesting  condition,  and  (which  has  caused  more  sensation 
in  the  neighborhood)  Mme.  de  Lamoignon  is  in  the  same 
state.*  M.  Mole  is  much  depressed,  people  say,  because 
Providence  has  left  him  out,  as  regards  this  particular  bless- 

*  Mme.  de  Laborde,  who  died  in  1855,  was  Mile.  Sabathier  de  Cabre.  She 
was  tall,  handsome,  amiable,  and  an  agreeable  woman.  Her  son,  Leon  de  La- 
borde, has  been  a  deputy,  a  Member  of  the  Institute,  and  Keeper  of  Archives. 

f  Mme.  de  Vannoise,  nee  Parseval-Deschenes,  was  a  cousin  of  ours.  She  was 
considered  an  attractive  woman.  She  had  been  married  to  a  disagreeable  pro- 
vincial husband,  from  whom  she  was  divorced,  and  she  was  rather  liked  than 
otherwise  in  the  family.  Ilcr  daughter  Constance  was  married,  at  a  subsequent 
period,  to  M.  de  Villeblanchc.  The  two  sons  of  Mme.  de  Vannoise  entered  the 
army.     One  of  them  perished  in  the  Russian  campaign. 

X  Mme.  Juste  dc  Noailles  was  the  daughter  of  Archambauld  de  Perigord,  the 
brother  of  M.  dc  Talleyrand. 

*  Mme.  Christian  de  Lamoignon  was  sister  to  M.  M0I6,  who  at  that  time  was 
childless.  She  retired  into  private  life  at  an  early  age,  on  account  of  bad  health. 
She  had  but  one  daughter,  who  married  M.  Adolphe  de  Scgur,  second  son  of 
Octave  de  Segijr. 

3 


50  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  REMUSAT. 

ing.  M.  de  Segnr,*  the  Grand  Master's  brother,  is  absolutely 
dying,  and  it  is  probable  that  the  Grand  Master  will  not  find 
him  alive  on  his  return.  Is  not  life  compassed  in  these  few 
lines — its  commencement  and  its  end  ?  This  would  be  a  fine 
opportunity  for  a  little  moral  essay ;  but  I  will  spare  you,  be- 
cause, to  quote  our  friend  La  Bruyere,  everything  has  already 
been  said. 

Tell  Mme,  Savary  f  that  I  often  speak  of  her  two  little 
girls  to  Bigot,  and  that  they  are  quite  well.  He  is  anxious 
about  Mme.  Davoust's  daughter,:}:  who  is  very  delicate,  and 
over  whom  he  watches  carefully. 

Adieu.  I  must  leave  you,  or  rather  I  must  leave  this 
letter,  which  will  soon  be  speeding  toward  you.  What 
more  shall  I  say  ?  No,  I  will  say  nothing,  not  another  word, 
for  fear  of  garrulousness ;  it  is  too  soon,  as  yet,  for  that. 


XXIX. 

TO  M.    DE   KEMUSAT,    AT   MILAN. 

Sannois,  Friday,  27  Floreal,  Year  XITT. 
{May  17,  1S05.) 

I  HAVE  just  finished  giving  Charles  his  lessons,  and  can 
now  have  a  chat  with  you,  by  way  of  recreation.  Next  to 
seeing  you  and  hearing  you  speak,  there  is  no  greater  pleas- 
ure for  me  than  that  of  writing  to  you ;  so  I  give  you  leave 
not  to  be  more  grateful  than  the  occasion  demands,  provided 
you  appreciate  the  reason  why  it  is  so  delightful  an  occupa- 
tion to  me. 

The  children  and  I  are  extremely  well.  A  country  life 
suits  us  so  perfectly  that  I  regret  we  can  not  pass  the  whole 

*  The  brother  of  the  Grand  Master  of  Ceremonies  was  the  Vicomte  de  Segur, 
a  man  of  talent,  who  wrote  some  pretty  vaudevilles. 
f  Mme.  Savary,  Duchess  de  Rovigo,  nee  Fandous. 
X  Mme.  Davoust  was  the  first  wife  of  Marshal  Davoust,  Prince  d'Eckmiihl. 


THE  POLIGNACS.  51 

summer  here — less  on  my  own  account,  although  my  health 
has  improved,  than  for  the  sake  of  our  two  darlings,  who 
are  in  splendid  condition.  I  must  tell  you,  too,  that  I  went 
to  St.  Leu*  yesterday  morning.  The  improvements  in  the 
grounds  are  making  it  a  most  delightful  place.  Prince  Louis 
has  purchased  a  large  part  of  the  forest.  He  has  eight  hun- 
dred acres  of  wood,  through  which  he  is  opening  the  pret- 
tiest roads,  and  a  broad  stream  runs  through  the  middle.  I 
repeated  to  the  Princess  all  you  told  me  about  her  brother. 
She  was  much  affected,  and  the  more  so  that  she  had  been 
distressed  by  receiving  quite  different  accounts.  She  is  de- 
void of  all  ambition,  but  feels  and  suffers  from  the  dangers 
-and  stumbling-blocks  to  which  her  brother  is  exposed,  in 
the  high  position  to  which  he  has  attained.  She  conversed 
with  me,  with  great  good  sense,  on  the  drawbacks  and  ad- 
vantages of  her  own  position.  Although  at  an  age  when 
illusions  are  natural,  she  seems  to  me  to  be  absolutely  free 
from  them,  and  to  weigh,  too  wisely,  perhaps,  the  enjoy- 
ments we  meet  with  on  life's  somew^hat  thorny  road.  I  was 
speaking  to  her  of  an  ill-natured  and  certainly  unfounded 
rumor,  which  has  been  ridiculously  exaggerated  in  Paris, 
and  which  I  heard  from  persons  who  profess  to  be  well  in- 
formed. I  must  repeat  it  to  you,  although  I  think  it  most 
absurd.     It  is  this : 

There  are  proofs,  it  is  said,  that  the  Polignacs  f  and 
others  imprisoned  in  the  fortress  at  Ham  were  planning  an 
escape,  that  they  carried  on  a  correspondence  with  the 
Princes,  that  they  had  the  command  of  money  and  endeav- 
ored to  bribe  the  soldiers,  and  that  Prince  Murat  has  had 
them  removed  to  the  Temple.  It  is  likewise  asserted  that 
the  Empress  has  continued  to  evince  great  interest  in  them ; 
and  that  there  are  letters  from  her  which  would  be  com- 
])i-omising. 

*  Princesa  Louis  Bonaparte's  country-house. 

f  The  Due  do  Polignac  and  his  brother,  whose  lives  had  been  granted  them 
by  the  Emperor,  were  at  first  imprisoned  at  Ham,  but  were  soon  removed  to  the 

gentler  duranec  of  a  mnison  dc  sand. 


52  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  REMUSAT. 

I  am  ignorant  wlietlicr  MM.  de  Polignac  could  be  capa- 
ble of  such  dishonorable  conduct.  In  times  such  as  these, 
when  revolution  has  left  demoralization  behind  it,  one  can 
not,  unfortunately,  rely  on  the  principles  of  any ;  but,  be- 
sides the  absurdity  of  the  complicity  attributed  to  the  Em- 
press, you  and  I  know  how  very  little  she  is  in  the  habit  of 
writing  at  all.  I  have  been  present  occasionally  when  she 
has  received  Mme.  de  Polignac  with  the  kindness  inherent 
in  her,  and  which  is  always  doubled  by  the  sight  of  any  kind 
of  misfortune.  I  hardly  think  this  tenderness  of  heart  is 
to  be  imputed  to  her  as  a  crime,  nor  can  I  conceive,  if  the 
rest  be  true,  how  any  one  can  have  invented  so  absurd  a 
calumny.  I  have  not  the  means  of  clearing  it  up  at  present ; 
I  will  even  admit  that  I  am  so  happy  in  this  quiet  country 
life,  only  occupied  with  you  and  our  children,  that  I  shrink 
from  anything  that  might  disturb  my  tranquillity.  I  can  not 
help  trembling  at  the  thought  of  soon  returning  to  the  vor- 
tex, where  I  am  often  so  oppressed  and  agitated,  that  I  have 
barely  time  to  give  a  thought  to  the  beloved  occupations  for 
which  I  am  so  well  suited.  The  latter  part  of  my  stay  at 
Court  was  so  disturbed,  so  gloomy !  It  was  then  I  began  to 
lose  that  happy  confidence  with  which  one  first  enters  so- 
ciety, and  with  which  one  parts  so  regretfully.  It  seems  to 
me  that  the  troubles  of  which  I  was  a  spectator,  the  quarrels, 
the  intrigues,  sometimes  affected  even  the  uprightness  of  my 
own  intentions  and  conduct,  and  have  rent  asunder  the  de- 
lusive veil  through  which  I  used  to  love  to  look  on  human 
nature.  It  was  to  you,  to  my  mother,  to  kind  and  loving 
friends,  that  I  owed  the  unsuspecting  disposition  of  which 
the  Court  is  depriving  me.  From  childhood  I  breathed  an 
atmosphere  of  affection  and  indulgence.  I  was  happy  later, 
in[  your  tenderness  and  in  the  tranquil  existence  which  was 
passed  at  your  side.  I  was  ignorant  of  evil ;  above  all,  I 
believed  it  could  never  reach  myself.  I  suffered,  therefore, 
and  suffered  acutely,  when  I  saw  that  malice  did  not  spare 
me.     I  walk  in  fear,  so  to  speak ;  I  prepare  beforehand  to 


''LES  TEMPLIERSr  53 

ward  off  future  attacks  ;  I  form  plans  for  the  future,  first  of 
which  is  to  lead  the  most  retired  life  possible,  so  as  to  give 
the  smallest  opportunity  for  the  accusations  of  envy. 

But  I  perceive  that  I  have  written  myself  into  a  vein  of 
sadness,  which  has  led  me  far  from  my  subject.  Try  to  do 
what  you  can  about  the  wicked  gossip  of  which  I  have  told 
you ;  unfortunately,  I  heard  it  from  persons  on  whom  I  can 
depend,  and,  whoever  may  be  its  author,  it  is  of  a  mischiev- 
ous tendency. 

There  is  much  talk  in  Paris  of  the  tragedy  of  "Les 
Tenipliers,"  and  consequently  of  the  Templars  themselves. 
People  dispute  about  their  innocence  and  the  justice  or  in- 
justice of  their  trial  and  sentence.  M.  Ra^mouard  is  also 
attacked,  but  the  general  feeling  is  in  his  favor.  I  send  you 
a  feuilleton  of  the  "  Publiciste  "  which  seems  to  me  imj)ar- 
tially  written.  Every  one  whom  I  have  seen  admires  the 
tragedy;  M.  Cheron,  Alix,  Mme.  de  Yintimille,  and  M. 
Mole  admit,  however,  that  it  is  wanting  in  movement.  But 
at  last  M'e  have  a  well-written  play,  and  in  French !  It  is 
said  that  the  author  has  written  several  others,  all  on  French 
historical  subjects ;  this  is  delightful.  He  is  also  writing  an 
epic  on  the  Maccabees ;  we  can  hear  some  of  it  if  you  like, 
because  Chaptal  *  is  determined  to  introduce  the  author  to 
me. 

Alix  arrived  here  yesterday.  Our  four  boys,  for  I  in- 
clude IIenri,f  are  enjoying  themselves  thoroughly ;  when  I 
see  them  so  unconscious  of  misfortune,  so  careless  as  to  the 
future,  so  gay  and  happy,  T  feel  my  heart  beat  with  pleasure 
and  pain  at  once.  What  will  be  their  fate  ?  AVhat  future 
lies  hidden  in  this  stormy  present  ?  Shall  we  have  exhausted 
both  their  share  and  our  own  of  anxiety  and  trouble  ? 

*  Chaptal,  a  distinguished  man  of  science,  was  born  in  1756.  Ho  was 
first  Professor  of  Chemistry  at  Montpellier,  then  Member  of  the  Institute,  and 
finally  Minister  of  the  Interior.     He  died  in  1832. 

f  The  four  boys  were  Charles  and  Albert  do  Remusat ;  Etienne,  cr,  according 
to  the  English  fashion,  Stephen  de  Nansouty,  their  first  cousin ;  and  Henri 
Cheron. 


54  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  REMUS  AT. 

You  see  I  am  in  a  rather  melancholy  mood.  I  own  it. 
You  only  could  disperse  the  little  cloud  which,  as  Mme.  de 
Scvigne  says,  makes  my  reflections  of  a  grayisTi-hrown.  But, 
wliatevcr  my  mood,  you  are  never  a  loser ;  my  heart  never 
changes.  Perhaps  melancholy  even  adds  another  degree  to 
tenderness,  either  because  the  latter  is  an  effect  of  the  former, 
or  that  it  consoles  and  brightens  the  gloomy  reflections  caused 
by  a  some"what  lengthy  contemplation  of  the  afflictions  of 
this  life. 


XXX. 


TO   M.    DE   REMUSAT,   AT   MILAN. 


Sannois,  Monday^  30  Floreal,  Year  XITL 
{May  20,  1805.) 

Mon  ami.,  I  have  this  instant  received  a  letter  of  the  23d, 
announcing  the  sudden  return  of  Salembini.  I  am  grieved 
and  alarmed  at  the  few  words  you  write  me,  because  I  seem 
to  read  between  the  lines  that  he  has  been  in  fault,  and 
gravely  so,  to  incur  so  prompt  a  punishment.  I  will  not, 
however,  judge  him  too  severely,  without  further  informa- 
tion, and  it  would  pain  me  to  have  to  doubt  the  principles 
or  the  attachment  of  a  man  to  whom  you  have  done  so  many 
services.  I  think  he  is  much  given  to  vanity,  and  I  will  own 
to  you  that  I  have  observed,  in  the  few  letters  that  I  received 
from  him,  some  indications  of  want  of  balance  that  surprised 
me,  and  also  of  a  disposition  to  take  offense  at  trifles.  I  had 
quite  expected  that  this  might  prov^e  a  source  of  annoyance 
to  you,  but  I  was  far  from  anticipating  what  you  now  tell 
me.  At  any  rate,  I  will  see  him  when  he  reaches  Paris ;  I 
can  not  be  hard  upon  him  now  that  he  is  in  trouble.  I  will 
ask  him  some  questions,  and,  if  he  has  sinned  against  our- 
selves only,  I  feel  I  can  not  condemn  him  altogether.  From 
your  habitual  gentleness  toward  myself  I  have  learned  indul- 
gence for  others  that  I  hope  to  retain  all  my  life  long.     Al- 


SALEMBINL  55 

though  I  look  upon  ingratitude  as  the  most  odious  of  vices, 
yet  it  tills  me  rather  with  pity  than  with  anger,  and  on  this 
occasion,  when  Salerabini  perhaps  is  not  wholly  exempt  from 
it,  I  will  not  allow  myself  to  reproach  him,  if  he  seems  sorry ; 
and  this  especially  on  account  of  his  sister,  whom  I  like 
much.  I  have  had  frequent  opportunities  of  seeing  her, 
because  her  brother  used  to  send  me  all  his  letters  for  her ; 
and  very  long  they  were,  if  I  may  judge  by  their  thickness. 
They  were  very  frequent  too.  Perhaps  these  letters  have 
been  opened  ?  Perhaps  their  contents  were  indiscreet  ?  I 
can  not  tell.  Mile.  Salembini  never  opened  them  in  my 
presence ;  she  contented  herself  with  saying  that  her  brother 
spoke  highly  of  you  and  appreciated  your  friendship,  and  I 
believed  her,  because  that  was  but  natural  and  right,  because 
every  one  who  knows  you  ought  to  love  and  esteem  you. 

I  regret  this  event  very  much,  and  I  regret  it  for  my  own 
sake  also.  He  was  very  attentive  in  giving  me  news  of  you, 
and  you  are  too  much  occupied  for  me  to  hope  to  hear  very 
often  directly  from  you.  Under  present  circumstances  you 
are  far  less  to  be  pitied  than  I ;  first,  because,  whatever  you 
may  say,  you  do  not  want  to  write  to  me  so  much  as  I  want 
to  receive  your  letters ;  and,  secondly,  because  your  time  is 
occupied  in  the  service  of  the  Emperor,  whom  you  love,  and 
who,  I  fancy,  is  a  very  potent  solace  to  the  pain  of  absence. 
Nevertheless,  my  dear  one,  notwithstanding  the  agreeable 
necessity  of  proving  your  zeal  by  your  assiduity,  think  of 
your  poor  wife,  who  is  very  lonely  away  from  you,  and  whose 
one  solitary  pleasure  is  that  of  receiving  your  letters. 

From  what  you  tell  me,  I  see  that  the  Emperor  has  ar- 
rived at  Milan  as  you  predicted,  that  his  presence  has  pro- 
duced its  customary  effect,  and  that  the  Italians,  in  their  turn, 
have  been  compelled  to  admire  the  hero  who  is  going  to  jDro- 
tect  them.  While  on  this  subject  I  must  tell  you  that  you 
wrote  me  two  very  eloquent  pages ;  your  theme  inspired  you. 
I  would  almost  wager  that  you  are  not  aware  of  this ;  they 
were  dashed  off  so  quickly,  because  your  heart  as  well  as 


56  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  E^MUSAT. 

your  liead  guided  the  pen.  Mon  ami,  what  I  liave  just  said 
would,  if  uttered  aloud,  seem  like  flattery,  and  yet,  between 
us,  it  is  but  truth.  Here,  in  the  solitude  of  the  iields,  I  often 
reflect  on  all  the  sorrows  we  have  experienced.  This  neigh- 
borhood reminds  me  of  our  misfortunes,  and,  painful  though 
they  were,  you  know  by  what  feelings  their  recollection  has 
been  sweetened  for  me ;  but  when,  after  sadly  counting 
them  over,  my  thoughts  revert  to  the  peaceful  times  we  are 
now  enjoying,  to  the  well-regulated  liberty  that  I  find  all- 
suflicient,  to  the  glory  Avith  ■which  my  country  is  covered, 
even  to  the  pomp  and  magnificence  that  I  like,  because  they 
are  proofs  that  all  is  an  accomplished  fact — in  short,  when  I 
remember  that  this  prosperity  is  the  work  of  a  single  man,  I 
am  aroused  to  admiration  and  gratitude.  Cher  ami,  this  is 
quite  between  ourselves,  for  some  persons  would  impute  to 
these  sentiments  a  very  different  motive  from  the  real  one, 
and,  besides,  it  seems  to  me  that  j^raise  from  the  heart  is  less 
anxious  for  publicity  than  that  which  proceeds  from  the  in- 
tellect. .  .  . 

Tuesday,  1  Prairial,  May  SI,  1S05. 

"  Les  Templiers  "  continues  to  be  a  great  success.  Every 
one  says  that  nothing  better  has  been  written  for  twenty 
years.  Opinions  differ  a  little  as  to  the  choice  of  subject  and 
the  truth  of  the  characters.  Parisian  critics  get  warm,  it  is 
said,  over  Jacques  de  Molay  and  Philippe  le  Bel,  and  their 
greater  or  less  guilt ;  but  the  fact  remains  that  the  tragedy 
draws  immense  houses,  and  is  incessantly  applauded. 

To  return  to  poor  Salembini.  Can  he  have  written  some 
piece  of  foolery  ?  But,  then,  how  comes  it  that  his  letters 
were  opened,  since  they  were  brought  by  the  Emperor's 
couriers  ?  I  am  inclined  to  think  it  is  some  wicked  calumny ; 
in  fact,  I  am  sure  he  must  have  been  imprudent  rather  than 
guilty.     He  always  seemed  to  me  such  an  honorable  man.* 

*  As  M.  de  Salembini  and  the  trouble  he  caused  are  described  in  the  Me- 
moirs, I  give  this  in  full,  although  it  is  of  no  interest  at  present,  except  as  afford- 
ing an  additional  proof  of  the  distrustfulness  and  meddlesomeness  of  the  Impe- 


AT  ST.   LEU.  57 


XXXIII. 

TO    M.    DE    REMUSAT,  AT    MILAN. 

Sannois,  Salurdai/,  5  Prairial,  Year  XIII. 
{Ma>/  25,  1805.) 

I  SAW  Salembini  yesterday.  He  was  quiet  enough,  relying 
on  your  friendship  and  his  own  innocence.  lie  regrets  most 
having  occasioned  vexation  to  you,  and  I  was  touched  by  the 
tone  in  which  he  said  that  he  could  never  forgive  himself  for 
'liaving  caused  you  trouble  and  annoyance  in  return  for  all 
the  kindness  you  had  shown  him.  I  endeavored  to  console 
him ;  and,  in  truth,  he  appeared  so  confident,  so  calm,  so  en- 
tirely ignorant  of  any  misconduct  deserving  of  the  severity 
with  which  he  was  banished,  that  I  can  not  believe  him  to 
have  been  anything  worse  than  a  little  imprudent. 

I  am  now  very  anxious  to  hear  from  you,  and  whether 
this  unfortunate  affair  has  had  any  unpleasant  consequences. 
You  do  not  mention  the  Emperor,  and  this  makes  me.  un- 
easy. Ah  !  how  many  vexations  and  troubles  are  caused  by 
absence !  I  can  only  endure  it  when  I  know  you  arc  well 
and  happy ;  but,  alas  !  my  lamentations  are  unavailing.  I 
must  wait,  I  must  watch  the  hours  pass  by,  before  I  can 
again  be  with  you,  and  able  to  speak  to  you  at  every  mo- 
ment of  my  life. 

I  am  dining  at  St.  Leu  to-day,  in  order  to  take  leave  of 
the  Princess,  for  I  return  to  Paris  on  Thursday.  We  shall 
be  speaking  of  our  kind  2:)rotectress,  to  whom  I  beg  you  will 
frequently  speak  of  me,  if  she  is  still  at  jMilan.  I  hope  you 
have  given  her  all  my  letters.  I  preferred  sending  them 
through  you,  because  I  feared  they  might  otherwise  get  lost. 

I'ial  system  of  police.  Salembini  had  written  imprudently,  not  on  politics,  but 
on  the  scandals  of  the  Court.  His  letters  were  opened,  and  he  received  orders 
to  leave.  In  reading  the  present  correspondence,  it  is  necessary  to  remember 
that  the  writers  had  always  to  bear  in  miud  the  possibility  of  a  similar  treat- 
ment of  their  own  letters. 


58  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  REMUSAT. 

Tell  her  how  greatly  I  am  attached  to  her ;  how  I  wish  her 
a  long-lasting  happiness,  and  that  since  Thursday  I  have 
sympathized  in  all  the  emotions  that  she  must  have  experi- 
enced. 

Salemhini  has  described  the  beautiful  presents  you  are 
bringing  me,  and  for  which  I  am  half  inclined  to  scold  you. 
Mon  ami,  you  have  been  extravagant  in  spending  money  on 
a  wife  whose  reasonableness  you  are  good  enough  to  praise. 
I  was  far  from  wishing  for  so  much,  and  there  was  no  need 
thus  to  glorify  your  return  home.  On  my  side,  all  I  can 
offer  you  in  exchange  are  my  two  little  jewels,  Charles  and 
Albert,  and,  like  the  Roman  lady,  I  shall  say,  as  I  show  you 
their  fresh  and  smiling  faces,  "  Here  are  my  treasures,  and 
with  them  the  happiness  that  you  have  bestowed  on  me." 

I  have  just  been  reading  an  excellent  article  on  the 
"  Templiers."  It  is  in  the  "  Mercure,"  and  is  an  answer  to 
the  censure  showered  on  M.  Itaynouard  by  Geoffroy.*  That 
wretched  journalist  took  into  his  head  to  discover  his  dreaded 
philosophers  among  the  defenders  of  the  order  of  Knights 
Templars,  and  to  attribute  the  wildest  projects  to  the  author 
of  the  tragedy,  who  endeavors,  he  said,  to  move  people  to 
compassion  for  their  fate.  You  will  have  to  take  part  in  all 
the  dissertations  on  your  return  ;  for  you  know  it  is  not  al- 
lowable to  remain  neuter  on  any  subject,  and  at  present  dis- 
putes rage  almost  as  fiercely  on  Philippe  le  Bel  and  the 
Templars  as  on  Gliick  and  Piccini.  It  must  be  admitted 
that  we  are  a  singular  nation  in  the  importance  we  attacli  to 
little  things,-  while  we  often  let  great  ones  slip  by  witli 
scarcely  a  glance.  One  need  only  cut  off  one's  dog's  tail  to 
turn  off  the  attention  of  the  Parisians.  But  to  return  to  the 
Templars :  "  Le  Mercure  "  quotes  two  phrases  of  Pascal's  and 
Bossuet's  in  their  defense,  and  surely  the  authority  of  those 
great  writers  is  sufficient  to  justify  a  poet  in  making  them 

*  Geoffrey,  who  was  born  at  Rennes,  in  1743,  had  succeeded  Freron,  as  edi- 
tor of  the  "  Ann^e  Litteraire,"  and  also  to  his  hatred  of  Voltaire.  He  was  at 
this  period  editor  of  the  "Journal  desDcbats."     He  died  in  1814. 


OEOFFROY.  59 

interesting.  "  The  Templars,"  says  Bossuet,  "  confessed  un- 
der tortures,  and  denied  when  brought  out  to  die  ;  there  was 
perhaps  more  of  avarice  and  revenge  than  of  justice  in  their 
execution."  These  words  occur  in  an  abridged  history  of 
France,  composed  for  the  Dauphin  by  tlie  Bishop  of  Meaux, 
and  notwithstanding  the  restrictions  that  he  said  he  had  to 
impose  on  himself  in  a  work  produced  under  such  circum- 
stances. 

Geoffroy  can  scarcely  call  these  two  'witnesses,  philosojyhers, 
according,  at  least,  to  his  own  interpretation  of  the  term. 


XXXIY. 


TO   M.  DE   KEMUSAT,    AT   MILAN. 


Sannois,   Tuesday,  8  Pmirial,  Year  XIII. 
{May  28,  1805.) 

.  .  .  You  are  severe,  I  think,  in  your  judgment  of  Bay- 
nouard ;  the  piece  is  much  more  successful  than  you  fancy. 
Every  box  was  taken,  last  night,  for  the  sixth  performance, 
and  people  were  fighting  for  admittance  at  the  doors.  The 
play  is  far  from  being  as  spiritless  as  you  think.  All  whom 
I  have  seen  tell  me  they  shed  tears  over  it,  and  that  they 
were  moved  by  the  same  emotions  that  Corneille  habitually 
arouses.  It  is  written  in  simple  and  touching  verse ;  the  sen- 
timents are  generous  without  being  bombastic,  and  such  as 
are  inspired  by  religion  ;  the  character  of  the  King  is  cleverly 
drawn  ;  in  short,  the  interest  is  sustained  for  five  acts  without 
love-making,  extraordinary  events,  or  machinery.  Surely  the 
author's  success  is  justified.  You  will  judge  for  yourself 
when  you  return,  and,  for  my  part,  I  intend  to  see  the  piece 
when  I  get  back  to  Paris. 

While  on  the  subject  of  the  theatre,  I  find  myself  sudden- 
ly struck  by  that  phrase  of  Mazarin's  that  you  quote  to  me. 
What  does  it  mean?     How  does  it  affect  you?     This  and 


60  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  R^MUSAT. 

other  words  in  your  letter  go  to  my  heart.  The  depression 
in  which  you  write  does  not  proceed  only  from  the  grief  of 
separation  from  those  you  love ;  I  fear  that  you  are  hiding 
some  secret  sorrow  from  me.  Mo7i  atni,  I  have  a  right  to 
share  all  things  with  you,  and  you  must  not  deny  me  my  half 
of  your  troubles.*  Perhaps,  however,  they  exist  only  in  ray 
imagination,  which  in  your  absence  is  gloomy,  and  would  be 
still  more  so  without  the  assurance  in  which  I  find  all  my 
comfort. 

3fo7i  ami,  I  really  think  I  am  becoming  religious ;  our 
new  separation  is  developing  the  feelings  caused  by  that  of 
last  year.  Do  not  let  this  alarm  you,  for,  if  my  character  be 
at  all  changed  by  it,  it  must  be  for  the  better  and  to  the  ad- 
vantage of  us  both.  I  already  feel  that  my  study  of  religion 
and  the  meditations  I  make,  after  reading  pure  and  devout 
books,  are  rendering  me  more  gentle  and  good.  The  habit- 
ual recollection  of  God  makes  me  wish  to  avoid  offending 
him  as  nnich  as  possible.  My  thoughts  revert  naturally  to 
him  and  to  you,  and  at  such  times,  in  presence,  as  it  were, 
of  the  Divinity,  I  renew  my  vows  to  love  you  and  make  you 
happy.  Adieu.  Do  not  smile  over  these  few  last  lines ;  let 
me  enjoy  the  comforts  of  religion. 


XXXV. 

TO   M.  DE   EEMUSAT,    AT   MILAN. 

Paris,  Sunday,  20  Prairial,  Year  XIII. 
{June  9,  1805.) 

Pkince  Eugene's  appointment  f  did  not  surprise  me.     It 
was  spoken  of  here  for  some  days  past,  andMme.  d'Houdetot 

*  These  feelings  are  explained  further  on,  in  a  letter  intrusted  to  Corvisart. 
The  quotation  from  Mazarin  is  as  follows :  "  When  any  one  was  recommended 
to  hira  for  employment,  the  Cardinal  always  asked,  '  Is  he  lucky  ?  '  " 

t  Prince  Eug6ne  de  Beauharnais  had  been  made  Viceroy  of  Italy  on  18 
Prairial. 


FLAYS.  61 

sent  me  the  news  yesterday.  She  had  seen  the  Princess  Louis, 
who  told  her  of  it  with  tears,  and  confessed  that  after  her 
first  feeling  of  gratitude  to  the  Emperor,  the  next  had  been 
grief  at  the  separation  from  her  brother.  If  he  is  still  at 
Milan,  pray  offer  him  my  good  wishes  and  my  homage.  From 
my  heart  I  trust  that  his  happiness  will  be  equal  to  his  glory. 
I  shall  write  to  the  Empress,  whose  mother's  heart  must  be 
alternately  glad  and  sorrowful.  Poor  motliers  and  wives 
often  pay  with  tears  for  the  prosperity  of  their  sons  and  hus- 
bands. My  sister  is  now  doing  this.  M.  de  Nansouty  has 
just  been  appointed  to  the  command  of  the  Reserve  Cavalry, 
and  is  to  accompany  Prince  Louis.  Although  it  is  a  most 
honorable  mission,  and  he  is  delighted,  Alix  only  sees  the 
separation  and  possible  danger,  and  she  is  in  tears.  The  ex- 
pedition to  England  is  more  than  ever  talked  of.  It  is  said  to 
be  certain,  and  that  on  his  return  the  Emperor  will  go  to 
Boulogne.  There  are  reports,  on  the  contrary,  of  a  Congress 
to  be  held  at  Brussels :  in  fact,  each  day  brings  forth  some 
fresh  rumor,  which  is  sure  to  be  succeeded  by  another  on  the 
following. 

I  have  been  to  the  "  Templiers."  I  was  delighted,  and 
cried  a  great  deal.  There  are  grave  defects  in  the  work,  but 
greater  beauties,  which  are  so  striking  that  the  former  are  only 
perceived  on  reflection.  It  attracts  great  crowds  ;  the  Fran- 
gais  is  as  full  as  in  the  height  of  the  winter  season,  and  the 
eleventh  performance  produced  four  or  five  thousand  francs. 
"  Madame  de  Sevigne "  *  was  performed  at  your  theatre 
the  night  before  last,  with  only  moderate  success.  It  is  an 
ill-conceived  work,  in  which,  by  making  Mme.  de  Sevigne 
declaim  in  three  quarters  of  an  hour  all  that  she  wrote  in 
twenty  years,  the  author  has  contrived  to  represent  her  as  the 
most  affected  and  stilted  person  in  the  world.     I  saw  also 

*  Madame  de  S6vign6 "  is  a  play  in  three  acts,  by  Bouilhi,  the  author  of 
"Contes  k  mafille"  and  "L'Abbe  de  I'Epce."  The  principal  character  wa3 
one  of  the  last  undertaken  by  Mile.  Contat.  Michot  and  Mile.  Mars  had  com- 
parative success. 


G2  LETTERS   OF  MADAME  DE  EEMUSAT. 

Duport's  ballet  of  "  Acis  et  Galatee,"  wliicli  is  very  prettj. 
I  have  now  concluded  my  course  of  theatres,  for  the  weather 
is  beginning  to  be  too  hot  to  shut  one's  self  up  in  a  box.  I 
am  going  to  stay  at  home  and  get  through  my  time  as  best  I 
can.  Do  not  forget  that  all  the  emotions  and  regrets  you 
describe  so  well  are  experienced  by  me  also,  and  that,  although 
I  endeavor  to  resign  myself  to  your  absence,  I  can  never  be- 
come accustomed  to  it. 


XXXYII. 


TO   M.    DE   REMUSAT,    AT   MILAN. 


Paris,  Thursday^  24.  Frah-ial,  Year  XIII. 
{June  13,  1S05.) 

I  PASSED  a  pleasant  day  yesterday,  conversing,  about  you 
principally,  with  real  friends.  The  Abbe  Morellet,  Gallois, 
and  Bertrand  dined  with  us,  and  afterward  M.  Devalues 
made  his  appearance ;  he  takes  compassion  on  our  solitude 
and  improves  on  acquaintance.  TVe  talked  till  midnight. 
Paris  is  so  empty  that  they  do  not  know  what  to  do.  Gal- 
lois feels  quite  lost,  and  is  going  to  take  himself  and  his  rev- 
eries to  Switzerland. 

Mme.  de  Souza  (the  mention  of  her  is  purely  accidental, 
believe  me)  has  arrived  at  Berlin,  where  she  is  feted  and 
caressed  by  the  Queen  and  all  the  best  society.  Her  literary 
reputation  had  preceded  her,  and  procured  her  a  most  gra- 
cious reception.  It  is  no  longer  quite  certain  that  her  hus- 
band goes  to  Kussia ;  he  is  said  to  be  inclined  to  give  up 
diplomacy  and  retire  into  private  life.  As  you  may  imagine, 
the  conversation  yesterday  turned  for  a  time  on  our  friend 
the  ambassadress  ;  the  "  Dictionnaire  de  1' Academic  "  was  the 

tt     immediate  cause.     Abbe  Morellet  declares  that  the  writings 
of  women  are  what  embarrass  him  most  as  to  the  meaning 

^     and  employment  of  words.     Our  favorite  Mme.  de  Sevigne 


WOMEN  IN  LITERATURE.  63 

reduces  liim  to  despair,  and,  as  lie  has  no  high  opinion  of  the 
sentimental  trifles  which  are  the  greatest  charm  of  feminine 
compositions,  he  would  willingly  burn  them  all  and  forbid 
us  ever  to  attempt  the  art  again,  Gallois,  as  a  chivalrous 
knight,  took  our  jmrt.  lie  argued  that  literature  would  be 
deprived  of  an  important  branch,  if  women  were  forbidden 
to  write,  and  asserted  that  their  so-called  negligences  of  style 
are  but  a  more  graceful  way  of  expressing  their  thoughts. 
During  the  discussion  I  kept  saying  to  myself  that  I  would 
willingly  submit  to  such  a  j^rohibition,  if  I  were  allowed  to 
tell  my  dearest  one  that  I  love  him  with  my  whole  soul ; 
and  that,  if  I  were  to  make  a  dictionary,  I  would  multiply  in 
eveiy  possible  Avay  the  modes  of  expressing  that  affection, 
which  I  never  succeed  in  describing  as  strongly  as  I  feel  it 
in  my  heart. 


XXXYIII. 


TO   M,    DE   KEMUSAT,    AT   MILAN. 


Saturday,  26  Prairinl,  Year  XIII. 
{June  15,  1S05.) 

Moil  ami:  I  received  two  letters  from  you  to-day;  one 
that  Corvisart  sent  me  in  the  morning,  and  another  that  I 
have  this  instant  read.  You  can  understand  my  sui-prise  at 
the  first,  I  keep  my  reflections  on  the  subject  to  myself  ; 
you  were  my  first  thought  and  my  first  anxiety.  Heaven 
knows.  I  will  follow  your  advice  and  see  the  person  you 
mention.*     As  to  the  lady  of  whom  you  speak,  I  have  paid 

*  In  a  note  to  the  Memoirs,  I  have  published  the  letter  that  my  grandfather 
sent  by  Corvisart.  It  is  a  striking  instance  of  the  worry  and  wearisomcness  of 
the  Emperor's  service.  An  accusation  of  too  great  an  intimacy  between  my 
fjrandmother  and  Mme.  de  Damas  had  been  brought,  and  they  had  allowed 
themselves  to  criticise  the  Italian  journey  and  the  Emperor's  brothers.  As  the 
letter  in  reply  had  to  go  through  the  post,  it  throws  little  light  on  the  circum- 
stances. The  person  whom  my  grandfather  advl-^ed  his  wife  to  consult  on  the 
subject  was  the  Minister  of  Police. 


64  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  BE  EEMVSAT. 

her  but  three  visits  since  your  departure ;  one  on  the  occa- 
sion of  her  daughter's  confinement,  which  then  occupied  her 
thoughts  exchisively ;  another,  one  evening  in  the  midst  of 
preparations  for  a  httle  party  that  she  was  giving  in  honor 
of  her  daughter's  recovery,  and  for  which  I  did  not  remain 
because  it  would  have  bored  me  ;  and  a  third  time,  when  I 
went  to  take  leave  of  her,  as  she  was  going  into  the  country. 
This  is  all.  You  can  imagine  my  feelings,  therefore,  and  I 
hasten  to  leave  so  unpleasant  a  subject. 

We  were  struck,  as  you  were,  with  the  Emperor's  speech 
at  Genoa;*  it  was  very  remarkable,  and  in  all  respects 
worthy  of  him.  The  union  of  the  states  seems  to  give  gen- 
eral satisfaction,  and  all  the  Provengaux  whom  I  know  say 
that  it  can  do  no  harm  at  Marseilles.  What  an  empire  it  is 
that  extends  from  those  countries  to  Antwerp !  And  what 
a  man  must  he  be  who  holds  it  all  in  his  hand  !  How  few 
do  we  find  in  history  like  him  ! 

These  reflections  are  suggested  to  me  by  the  study  of 
history,  which  I  have  taken  up  in  order  to  occupy  my  leisure 
time.  Such  a  study  is  of  special  interest  and  use  after  a  rev- 
olution like  ours,  which  throws  a  new  light  on  many  brilliant 
deeds  by  which  we  h&d  at  first  been  dazzled,  and  at  the 
same  time  makes  us  appreciate  others  that  we  had  hitherto 
hardly  noticed.  How  many  circumstances  and  characters 
are  explained  by  it !  How  many  actions  justified !  It  is  a 
kind  of  labyrinth,  in  fact,  of  which  the  plan  has  at  last  been 
found  out.  I  believe  it  would  be  most  useful  to  recur  in 
this  way,  when  one's  reason  is  matured,  to  the  histories  read 
during  youth.  We  should  thus  escape  the  danger  of  retain- 
ing the  impressions  received  at  a  penod  when  our  judgments 
are  dictated  by  our  feelings,  and  we  only  esteem  that  which 
we  happen  to  like.  O  happy,  happy  time  of  our  youth, 
that  files  so  fast  and  that  we  waste  so  recklessly!  How 
sweet  are  its  illusions  and  how  far  from  me  already !     3fon 

*  The  union  of  the  Genoese  states  to  the  French  Empire, 


LEMERCIER.  65 

ami,  what  thanks  do  I  not  owe  you  !  "Without  you,  without 
the  happiness  I  derive  from  you,  I  think  I  could  not  resist 
the  gloom  and  melancholy  of  life's  disappointments. 

You  must  try  to  put  up  with  the  extreme  dullness  of  my 
letters  just  now.  I  know  nothing,  I  see  nobody,  my  life  is 
as  monotonous  as  possible,  and  yet  in  this  dearth  of  all  news 
you  wish  me  to  write  to  you  every  day.  I  must,  therefore, 
write  my  thoughts,  and  you  must  be  patient  with  their  occa- 
sional sadness.  I  am  not  always  able  to  control  it,  and  I 
give  way  to  feelings  of  melancholy,  especially  when  unex- 
pected trials  are  added  to  those  of  my  every-day  life.  Your 
return  only  can  disj^el  them ;  they  can  not  then  master  me, 
for  their  place  will  be  taken  by  the  sweetest  emotions  of 

joy- 

I  do  not  know  whether  I  told  you  that  the  success  of  the 
"  Templiers  "  had  aroused  all  our  tragic  geniuses,  excepting 
only  Lemercier,  whose  line  is  decidedly  epic  poetrj\  He  is 
writing  on  the  most  extraordinary  subject.  The  scene  is 
laid  in  the  infernal  regions,  and  the  devils,  by  way  of  amuse- 
ment, are  acting  plays  in  which  they  represent  the  various 
scenes  of  life.  There  will,  no  doubt,  be  something  diabolic 
in  the  style,  and  I  fear  the  whole  will  not  be  as  clever  as  the 
devil.* 

Sunday. 

I  finished  my  evening,  yesterday,  with  the  "  Templiers," 
which  my  mother  had  not  yet  seen.  She  was  delighted,  and 
we  both  shed  tears,  not  of  tenderness,  but  those  that  are 
excited  by  greatness  of  soul.  The  interest  aroused  by  the 
])iece  is  so  great  that  its  defects  are  not  noticed  until  after 
the  performance  is  over.  Meanwhile  one  admires,  one  is 
moved,  and  any  fault  is  overlooked.     It  is  now  going  to  be 

*  "  La  Panhypocrirtiadc,"  a  poem  by  Lemcrcior,  which  was  not  published  un- 
til 1817,  entirely  justifies  Mme.  do  Rdmusat  in  the  opinion  given  in  the  above 
letter.  Lemercier,  it  is  well  known,  was  succeeded  at  the  French  Academy  by 
M.  Victor  Huf^o,  whom  he  had  preceded  on  the  path  of  literary  reform,  and 
whom  ho  afterward  opposed  as  a  greater  reformer  than  himself. 


6(y  LETTERS   OF  MADAME  DE  REMUSAT. 

published,  and  will  consequently  have  to  pass  a  severe  ordeal. 
It  still  attracts  great  crowds ;  the  house  was  full  last  night, 
and  the  applause  continual.  There  is  one  line  which  is 
always  seized  upon.  Philip  is  speaking  of  the  King  of 
England,  and  says — 

"La  terreur  de  mon  nom  le  poursuit  dans  son  ile." 

Saint  Prix  is  splendid  in  the  part  of  the  Grand  Master,  the 
princij)al  and  best-written  character  in  the  play;  Talma* 
also  does  well,  but  his  acting  is  somewhat  injured  by  his 
state  of  health.  He  is  ill,  and  suffers  from  frequent  nervous 
attacks.  ''  Madame  de  Sevigne  "  has  improved  a  little,  but  it 
will  never  be  anything  more  than  an  indifferent  play,  prov- 
ing, however,  that  the  author  has  the  ability  for  writing 
another  on  a  better  subject. 

I  have  seen  a  most  beautiful  house  this  morning,  belong- 
ing to  Mr.  Crawfurd.f  He  has  bought  the  old  Monaco 
Hotel,  and  furnished  it  superbly — the  most  splendid  carpets 
and  hangings,  a  quantity  of  china,  and,  more  than  all,  the 
finest  collection  of  portraits  of  celebrities,  both  men  and 
women,  from  the  time  of  Henry  II.  to  our  own  days.  All 
Louis  XIV.'s  century  by  Mignard !  You  can  imagine  my 
mother's  delight  wdth  pictures  of  Mme.  de  Sevigne  and 
Mme.  de  Grignan,  Mme.  de  Montespan  and  Mme.  de  la  Yal- 
liere.  I  spent  nearly  two  hours  in  admiring  all  these  fine 
things,  though  I  felt  sorry  to  think  they  will  eventually  find 
their  way  to  the  heirs  of  this  wealthy  individual  in  England ; 
I  was  annoyed,  too,  I  must  confess,  to  see  such  a  collection 
in  the  possession  of  an  Englishman.  However,  we  wandered 
about  as  if  in  an  enchanted  palace,  without  meeting  a  soul. 
The  former  owner  has  given  it  up  to  strangers;  his  wife, 

*  Talma  took  the  part  of  Marigny.  At  a  subsequent  period,  after  the  death 
or  retirement  of  Saint  Prix,  he  played  the  Grand  Master  with  the  greatest  suc- 
cess. 

f  Mr.  Crawfurd,  a  friend  of  Talleyrand's,  was  a  clever  man,  who  published 
several  works  in  French  for  private  circulation. 


A  RICH  englishman:  67 

Mme.  Sullivan,*  the  mother  of  Mme.  d'Orsay,  keeps  herself 
out  of  the  way.  Visitors  come  and  go  and  examine  every- 
thing, and  nobody  interferes.  Mr.  Crawfurd  is  one  of  the 
richest  of  rich  Englishmen.  lie  has  lost  over  here  a  hun- 
dred thousand  francs  of  income  (£4,000),  and  does  not  even 
feel  it.  He  spent  a  million  on  this  new  house  in  a  period  of 
two  years,  without  the  slightest  difficulty.  He  hkes  living 
in  Paris,  is  hospitable,  spends  his  money  liberally,  and  enjoys 
life.  I  do  not  require  so  large  a  fortune  to  be  happy,  and  I 
think  we  could  lead  a  pleasant  life  at  less  cost.  Here  is  an 
opportunity  for  a  fine  panegyric  of  moderation  in  fortune, 
but  I  could  say  nothing  new,  and  although  the  older  I  grow 
the  more  I  lean  to  a  simple  and  quiet  life,  I  could  amuse  you 
by  telling  you  what  I  have  felt  in  scenes  of  dazzling  splen- 
dor and  magnificence.  On  the  whole,  I  think  I  dread  such 
splendor  as  much  as  life  in  a  hut. 

You  tell  me  that  the  Empress  is  good  enough  to  say  that 
I  do  not  write  to  her  sufficiently  often.  It  is  because  I  fear 
to  be  intrusive.  I  picture  her  to  myself  so  occupied,  so 
agitated,  and  so  overwhelmed,  that  I  fear  my  letters  might 
arrive  at  some  inconvenient  moment.  I  will  write  to  her, 
however,  in  a  few  days,  and  will  send  my  letter  through  you, 
as  I  am  uncertain  as  to  where  she  may  be. 


XL. 

TO   M.    DE   EEMUSAT,    AT   MILAN. 

Paris,  Friday^  9  Mcssidor,  Year  XIII. 
{June  28,  1805.) 

We  have  been  greatly  shocked  by  the  almost  sudden 
death  of  poor  Neny.  He  was  struck  with  apoplexy  on  Sun- 
day evening;  in  two  hours  he  completely  lost  the  power  of 

*  Mme.  Sullivan  \va?,  as  stated  above,  the  mother  of  JIme.  d'Orsay,  whose 
son.  Count  d'Orsay,  was  famous,  thirty  years  ago,  for  the  elegance  of  his  dress. 
He  married  the  daughter  of  the  Earl  of  Blcssington. 


68  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  REMUS  AT. 

sjoeecli  and  movement,  and  after  lingering  for  tliirty-six  hours 
he  expired,  quite  unconscious  of  everything.  The  sudden- 
ness with  which  death  strikes  us,  suggests  many  reflections 
to  a  dreamer  like  me.  What  trouble,  what  anxiety  we  give 
ourselves,  in  order  to  reach  death  at  last !  A  little  pleasure, 
more  or  less,  and  all  is  over !  Where  now  are  all  the  trifling 
vanities,  which  yet  had  such  power  to  wound  us  ?  I  do  not 
include  the  feelings  of  the  heart  which  adorn  our  life,  and 
afford  us  comfort  at  its  end.  If  in  eternity  we  retain  any 
remembrance  of  this  life,  it  must  surely  be  of  our  love  for  a 
tender,  dear,  and  faithful  friend  to  whom  we  have  been  in- 
debted for  all  our  happiness.  And  then,  perhaps,  if  we  are 
permitted  to  make  a  prayer,  it  is  that  we  may  continue  to 
enjoy  this  same  happiness. 

Poor  Mme.  Dupuis  *  is  in  great  grief.  Her  son  has  just 
died  of  malignant  fever,  after  a  long  and  painful  illness.  On 
her  return  from  Plombieres,  whither  she  had  accompanied 
Princess  Josepli,t  she  found  the  child  dangerously  ill.  He 
seemed  to  have  waited  for  her  in  order  to  die,  for  she  lost 
him  a  very  few  days  afterward.  But  I  have  written  enough 
about  death ;  I  will  try,  if  I  can,  to  throw  off  the  melancholy 
into  which  these  sad  events  have  cast  me.  A  letter  from  you 
just  now  would  do  me  great  good,  for  I  find  it  diflScult  to 
bear  up  against  depression. 

Paris  is  duller  than  ever.  ]S"obody  is  here  ;  the  theatres, 
not  being  attractive  in  hot  weather,  are  empty ;  nor  can  we 
enjoy  the  season,  for  it  rains  unceasingly,  and  we  have  the 
fire  lighted  every  day.  My  mother  and  I  arc  much  together ; 
we  read  or  converse,  and  the  order  and  regularity  with  which 
my  days  are  passed,  make  them  glide  by  so  quickly  as  to 
convince  me  that  the  right  way  to  get  through  one's  time  is 
to  spend  it  according  to  a  fixed  rule.  I  am  sorrowful  at 
being  so  far  from  you,  but,  strictly  speaking,  I  am  not  dull ; 

*  She  was  a  crcolc,  from  Bourbou,  and  wife  of  the  Inteudant  of  Finance, 
f  Joseph  Bonaparte. 


REVERIES.  69 

I  read  and  tliink  and  muse,  and  tlie  latter  occupation  affords 
me  pleasure.  You  would  laugh  could  you  know  with  what 
plans,  what  wishes,  and  even  with  what  delusions,  ray  im- 
agination fills  up  the  void  around  me.  Sometimes  I  build 
castles  in  the  air  of  every  kind ;  at  others  I  hold  conversa- 
tions with  interesting  people ;  I  imagine  speeches  for  my 
interlocutors,  which  I  answer ;  I  narrate  and  descant,  and  all 
this  with  my  arms  folded,  in  an  easy-chair,  or  in  my  bed, 
waiting  for  sleep,  which  does  not  come  so  easily  as  of  yore. 
Do  not  think,  however,  that  I  amuse  myself  with  mere 
empty  dreaming.  There  is  something  serious  and  reasonable 
in  my  reveries.  I  moralize,  I  argue,  I  strengthen  within 
myself  the  principles  in  which  I  was  brought  up,  and  which 
have  been  confirmed  by  the  happiness  which  you  have  be- 
stowed on  me.  I  rej^lace  the  fond  illusions  of  my  youth 
with  truths  from  which  I  endeavor  to  get  all  the  consolation 
possible.  Although  I  have  learned,  by  an  experience  I  did 
not  seek,  to  distrust  human  nature,  I  nevertheless  try  not  to 
mistake  my  true  friends.  To  conclude  :  I  tell  myself  that 
real  wisdom  is  not  to  be  found  in  heart-breaking  suspicion, 
but  that  to  preserve  one's  own  heart  pure,  and  to  allow  one's 
self  to  be  deceived  with  a  certain  facility,  is  perhaps  the  best 
way  of  obtaining  all  the  happiness  this  world  affords. 


XLI. 

TO   l^r.    DE   REMUSAT,    AT   MILAN. 

Paris,  Monday^  12  Mcssidor,  Year  XIII. 
(July  1,  1S05.) 

I  AM  writing  to  you  in  the  midst  of  constant  interruption. 
Since  early  this  morning  I  have  a  stream  of  visitors  to  con- 
sole me  in  my  solitude.*     I  dare  not  close  my  door  against 

*  Mme.  do  Vergcnnnes  and  her  grandson   were    at  Auvers,  Seinc-ct-Oisc, 
staying  with  Mmc.  Ch6ron. 


70  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  REMUSAT. 

them,  for  friends  and  kinsfolk,  knowing  that  my  mother  has 
left  me,  seem  to  have  agreed  to  meet  each  other  here ;  and 
yet  the  real  way  to  make  myself  forget  the  slow  lapse  of  time 
is  to  spend  it  in  conversing  with  you.  When  writing  to  you, 
I  regret  nothing  but  your  absence.  I  am  thinking,  therefore, 
by  way  of  consolation  in  my  retirement,  of  always  keeping 
on  my  desk  a  letter  to  you  partly  written,  to  which  I  can  add 
a  few  words  when  I  feel  more  sorrowful  than  usual.  You 
may  be  sure,  too,  that  my  book  of  sermons  will  not  be  neg- 
lected. The  grand  answer  to  unbelievers  is  the  need  of 
religion  which  we  are  always  brought  to  feel  by  sorrow  and 
trials.  For  my  own  part,  I  know  that  religion  has  given  me 
comfort  that  I  could  have  found  in  no  other  way ;  and  yet  I 
am  but  little  advanced  on  the  path,  and  I  even  feel  that  I 
should  never  wish  to  advance  so  far  as  to  prefer  anything  to 
the  dear  and  beloved  friend  of  my  heart. 

What  are  you  now  doing  ?  How  I  dread  that  you  may 
be  suffering  from  heat  and  fatigue !  How  your  migratory 
life  must  tire  you ;  mind  and  body  in  constant  movement, 
only  the  heart  in  repose  !  For,  notwithstanding  all  that  our 
returned  travelers  have  told  me  of  the  beauty  of  Italian  eyes, 
I  can  not  for  one  moment  doubt  that  you  have  always  turned 
away  at  once  from  their  glances,  rather  than  fail  in  those 
vows  of  fidelity  to  me,  from  which  I  will  on  no  pretext 
whatever  relieve  you.  I  must  not,  however,  include  Corvi- 
sart  among  the  admirers  of  the  ladies  of  Milan.  He  took 
with  him  the  ennui  with  which  his  life  is  everywhere  bur- 
dened, and  he  came  back  dissatisfied  with  all  he  had  seen. 
M.  de  Tournon  appeared  to  me  better  pleased,*  and  I  suspect 
he  employed  his  time  better  than  our  Esculapius.  He  rather 
amused  me  by  his  account  of  the  busily  idle  life  you  are  lead- 
ing just  now.    He  declares  that  he  is  quite  convinced  pleasure 

*  M.  Camille  de  Tournon-Simiane,  Chamberlain  to  the  Emperor,  Prefect  of 
Eome,  and  subsequently  Prefeet  of  Bordeaux,  was  born  in  1778.  He  published 
some  statistical  works  on  Rome  (2  vols.  8vo,  Paris,  1831),  and  died  in  1833. 


M.   MOLLIEK  71 

does  not  abide  in  palaces.  I  believe  it,  alas !  Ijut  I  feel  how 
easily  it  might  dwell  with  us,  if  we  could  abandon  ourselves 
to  the  delicious  sentiments  on  which  you,  as  it  were,  nour- 
ished my  youth.  "Were  those  golden  and  swiftly  passing  days 
the  happiest  that  I  shall  ever  know  ?  I  greatly  fear  so.  I 
know  not  whether  it  is  that  our  years,  as  they  accumulate, 
bringing  with  them  an  involuntary  knowledge  of  the  truth, 
fill  us  also  with  dread  of  the  future,  or  whether  I  possess  a 
secret  presentiment  of  the  fate  that  awaits  us,  but  in  any 
case  I  own  to  a  fear  that  we  shall  never  again  enjoy  a  jjeace- 
ful  existence.  Far  from  being  prodigal  of  my  time  and  my 
happiness,  as  I  used  to  be  five  or  six  years  ago,  I  am  becom- 
ing miserly  over  them.  I  grieve  for  the  loss  of  either;  I 
begin  to  perceive  that  if  we  suffer  the  present  to  escape  us, 
it  is  irretrievably  lost,  and  I  suffer  acutely,  for  instance,  at 
the  thought  that  I  am  perhaps  destined  often  to  be  deprived 
of  your  dear  presence. 

I  saw  yesterday  two  of  our  friends  who  are  far  more  for- 
tunate than  we,  Mollicn  *  and  his  wife.  They  have  bought  a 
small  country-house  in  which  they  reside.  Every  morning 
the  husband  goes  to  the  Caisse  d'Amortissement,  where  he  is 
employed,  and  labors  honorably  for  his  master  and  his  coun- 
try. At  five  o'clock  he  comes  home  to  dinner,  and  passes  the 
evening  with  his  family.  He  has  invested  all  his  money  in 
this  little  property  ;  there  are  seventeen  acres  of  land,  which 
he  amuses  himself  in  laying  out,  and  on  which  he  counts 
every  bit  of  timber.  Pie  is  contented  with  his  lot ;  he  talked 
at  length  with  me  on  the  subject,  and  M'ishes  for  nothing 
beyond.  His  salary  is  sufficient  for  his  wants,  the  Emperor 
ti'usts  him,  he  is  respected  by  worthy  jDCople,  and  he  smiles 

*  M.  Mollien  was  not  as  yet  at  the  head  of  the  Treasury ;  he  directed  the 
Caisse  d'Amortissement.  He  was  born  in  1758,  and  died  in  1850.  His  wife,  who 
was  an  amiable  and  superior  woman,  died,  aj;cd  more  than  ninety,  in  1880.  To 
the  last  she  clung  to  the  memory  of  her  husband  and  of  those  early  times,  so 
peaceful  for  her,  while  for  others  they  were  so  disturbed.  She  was  Lady-in- 
Waiting  to  Queen  Marie  Amelie. 


72  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  RtUTISAT. 

in  private  at  the  fear  of  him  which  certain  ambitions  enemies 
feel,  and  at  the  dislike  they  choose  to  cultivate,  whereas,  had 
they  taken  the  trouble  to  know  him,  they  would  see  he  is  too 
moderate  a  man  to  be  in  any  way  a  dangerous  rival.  I  lis- 
tened to  his  account  of  his  position,  of  his  devotion  to  the 
Emperor,  of  his  simple,  quiet  tastes,  with  the  more  pleasure 
that  I  discerned  some  likeness  to  you  in  his  description  of 
himself,  and  this  similarity,  flattering  to  both,  lent  a  great 
charm  to  his  conversation.  Both  he  and  his  wife  seemed 
pleased  at  my  visit,  and  I  promised  to  go  there  again  with 
you. 


XLII. 


TO   M.    DE   EEMUSAT,    AT   MILAN. 


Papis,  Tuesday,  13  Mcssidor,  Year  XIII. 

{July  2,  1S05). 

I  WENT  yesterday  to  Eomainville.  I  had  given  a  little 
offense  by  my  neglect ;  it  was  my  first  visit  there  since  you 
left  me,  and  Mme.  de  Montesson  *  scolded  me  for  not  tak- 
ing advantage  of  my  liberty  to  go  a  little  more  into  society. 
This  is  a  very  general  reproach,  and  I  feel  it  is  deserved, 
yet  I  have  no  wish  to  correct  my  failings  in  that  respect. 
What  I  like  most,  when  you  are  away,  is  to  divide  my  time 
between  my  mother  and  my  son.  .  .  . 

To  return  to  Mme.  de  Montesson.  I  found  her  looking 
ill,  and  trying  to  amuse  herself  by  superintending  improve- 
ments in  her  house.  She  is  so  changed,  and  the  contrast  is  so 
great  between  her  appearance  and  the  elegance  and  luxury 
surrounding  her,  I  could  not  help  being  struck  by  it.  It  was 
as  if  she  were  adorning  her  grave.  You  see  that  I  am  still 
somewhat  inclined  to  melancholy  thoughts  caused  by  solitude 

*  Mme.  de  Montesson  died  a  few  months  later,  on  February  6,  1806.     She 
was  half-sister  to  Mme.  de  Genlis. 


THE  ROMANS.  73 

and  separation  from  you ;  and  I  do  not  reject  them,  for  they 
are  not  really  saddening  except  when  the  effect  of  a  sorrow 
for  which  there  is  no  remedy ;  when  they  have  hope  for  a 
companion,  there  is  a  charm  about  them  to  which  I  willingly 
abandon  myself. 

I  have  already  told  you,  I  think,  that  I  have  taken  up 
Roman  history,  which  I  had  not  looked  at  since  I  was  a  girl 
of  fifteen.  It  used  to  delight  my  youthful  imagination,  and 
I  like  it  still,  but  in  a  different  way.  Alas !  mon  ami,  I  have 
grown  old.*  I  feel  no  enthusiasm,  as  formerly,  for  those 
austere  republicans ;  our  own  troubles  have  opened  my  eyes 
to  their  ostentatious  virtues.  I  admire  something  I  read  by 
Saint-Evremond  on  this  subject.  He  gives  an  excellent 
explanation  of  the  rustic  simplicity  of  the  early  inhabitants 
of  Rome,  which  ho  contends  was  not  virtue,  but  simply  igno- 
rance of  any  other  mode  of  life.  "  In  spite  of  what  posterity 
has  tried  to  make  us  believe,"  he  says,  "their  valor  was 
nothing  but  ferocity,  and  obstinacy,  with  them,  took  the 
place  of  knowledge.  Far  from  being  urged  on  by  a  sense  of 
superiority,  the  Romans,  in  the  early  days  of  their  republic, 
were  but  dishonest  neighbors,  who  by  main  force  cultivated 
the  fields  of  others."  f  However,  I  do  not  expect  that  you 
will  find  in  the  Italy  of  to-day  any  trace  of  those  early 
Roman  manners,  whether  they  were  the  outcome  of  virtue 
or  of  ignorance,  and  nothing  less  than  the  presence  of  a  great 
man  like  our  master  would  suffice,  I  believe,  to  rouse  the 
nation  from  the  lethargy  in  which  she  is  steeped,  and  which 
made  Duclos  always  say,  the  Italians  of  Home.  To  such  a 
mind  as  yours  it  must  be  a  curious  and  interesting  study  to 
watch  the  point  to  which  his  glory  will  succeed  in  arousing 
them.     While  he  creates  new  peoples,  so  to  speak,  during  his 

*  She  was  then  twenty-five  years  of  age.  ^ 

f  The  above  quotation  contains  the  matter,  but  not  the  exact  words,  of  Saint- 
Evremond  in  his  "  Reflexions  sur  les  Divers  Gcnies  du  Peuple  Romain  dans  les 
Divers  Temps  de  la  Republiquc,"  p.  17G.    His  work  is  very  little  read  at  present, 
which  is  to  be  regretted. 
4 


74  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  REM  US  AT. 

trininpliant  progress,  France  herself  must  be  a  striking  spec- 
tacle to  all  beholders.  Her  navy,  formed  in  two  years,  after 
a  destructive  revolution,  and  at  the  present  moment  taking 
the  offensive  against  an  enemy  that  has  long  carelessly 
despised  it ;  her  tranquillity  in  the  absence  of  her  ruler ;  and, 
lastly,  her  government  that  has  not  suffered  in  any  part  of  its 
administration  during  this  long  absence!  All  these  things 
are  sufficient  to  excite  surprise  and  admiration,  and  to  kindle 
the  imagination  of  the  ardent.  I  own  that  I  am  not  yet  too 
old  for  enthusiasm  of  this  kind.  .  .  . 


XLIII. 

TO   M.    DE   EEMUSAT,    AT   MILAN. 

Paris,  Wednesday  Morning,  IJf.  Messido);  Year  XIII. 

{July  3, 1S05.) 

.  .  .  Peay  tell  the  Empress  that  I  saw  at  Gaerin's  a  jjor- 
trait  of  her  that  only  requires  two  sittings  more,  and  is  an 
admirable  likeness  and  painting.  It  is  really  charming.  It 
gives  all  the  delicacy  of  her  features  and  the  expression  of 
her  eyes ;  in  fact,  it  is  perfection,  and  I  wish  it  were  mine. 
Thank  her  also  for  the  kindness  with  which  she  receives  my 
letters.  Of  course  I  should  like  to  have  a  few  lines  from  her, 
but  I  do  not  presume  to  expect  it.  Herbaut,*  whom  I  have 
just  seen,  tells  me  she  is  going  direct  to  Plombieres.  Shall 
we  join  her  there  ?     Would  you  be  free  ? 

I  saw  Mile.  Contat  yesterday ;  she  had  written  so  often 
and  pressed  me  so  much  to  receive  her,  that  I  thought  I  could 
not  continue  to  refuse.  She  told  me  that  Talma's  illness  is 
taking  the  form  of  such  violent  nervous  attacks  that  some- 
times he  is  not  quite  himself.  If  this  be  true,  the  poor  Come- 
die  Fran§aise  will  be  in  a  bad  way.     At  the  present  time 

*  Herbaut,  valet  and  hair-dresser  to  the  Empress,  made  his  fortune  as  a 
fashionable  mercer. 


THE   GOMEDIE  FRANC AISE.  75 

there  is  absolutely  no  money  taken ;  the  best  pieces  fail  to 
attract.  It  is  not  the  fault  of  the  actors,  for  their  repertory 
is  good,  and  they  all  act ;  but  the  weather  is  warm  and  the 
small  theatres  are  crowded.  The  latter  constantly  give 
pieces  which  excite  curiosity,  either  by  their  extravagance  or, 
what  is  worse,  their  indecency,  and  Kacine  and  Moliere  are 
forsaken  for  the  coarse  farces  of  the  Boulevards.  I  saw  some 
of  them  last  week  with  mamma,  and  we  had  great  difficulty 
in  obtaining  places  for  "  Le  Revenant  de  Berezule,"  and  the 
"  Guerriere  des  Sept  Montagues.*'  *  Poor  Maherault  is  quite 
paralyzed,  because  your  actors  all  complain  that  they  are  not 
earning  anything.  "  The  Templiers  "  would  bring  in  some 
money,  but  Talma's  illness  has  put  a  stop  to  it.  Thus,  you 
are  longed  for  and  expected  ;  they  come  every  day  to  inquire 
about  your  return,  and  perhaps  when  they  have  seen  you 
and  given  you  no  end  of  trouble  they  will  be  no  better 
pleased,  for  such  are  comedians — I  was  going  to  say,  such  are 
men. 


XLiy. 

TO   M.    DE    EEMUSAT,    AT   MILAN. 

Paris,  Friday^  16  Messidor,  Year  XIII. 
{July  5, 1805.) 

I  RESUME  my  journal,  cher  ami.  I  was  unable  to  continue 
writing  it  yesterday,  although  I  was  for  the  greater  part  of 
the  day  at  home.  After  beginning  the  morning  as  usual  by 
thinking  of  you,  I  next  went  out  to  buy  the  chairs  for  your 
room.     I  have  now  arranged  tliem  and  your  books  also,  so 

*  The  melodrama,  "  Le  Revenant  de  Berezule,"  was  brought  out  at  the  Ain- 
bigu,  on  7  Messidor,  Year  XIII.  (June  26,  1805).  The  ostensible  author  was  M. 
Francois,  and  the  real  author,  Mme.  de  Bawr,  narrates  in  her  Memoirs  that  the 
piece  failed  so  utterly,  that,  having  made  her  escape  at  the  end  of  the  first  act, 
she  could  still,  from  the  Boulevards,  hear  the  hisses.  No  doubt,  it  was  improved 
afterward.  "  La  Guerriere  des  Sept  Montagnes,"  or  "  La  Laitierc  des  Bords  du 
nhin,"  is  also  a  melodrama,  and  was  brought  out  in  IS05, 


7G  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  REMUSAT. 

all  is  ready  to  receive  yon.  I  made  liaste  to  prepare  tlie 
room,  as  if  by  so  doing  I  could  hasten  your  return.  At  any 
rate,  it  made  me  think  of  it,  and  thus  almost  enjoy  it  before- 
hand. Afterward  I  amused  myself  by  putting  my  papers,  as 
I  call  them,  in  order,  and  by  reading  over  the  effusions  of 
my  childhood,  to  which  in  early  days  I  attached  so  much  im- 
portance, and  which  have  acquired  it  since,  from  the  happi- 
ness of  the  time  to  wliich  they  carry  me  back.  This  interest- 
ing reading  and  my  sweet  reveries  whiled  away  the  time  for 
me  until  two  o'clock,  and  then  Mme.  de  Ganay  arrived,  with 
whom  I  had  a  pleasant  talk.  She  is  nice  and  seems  friendly ; 
I  like  her  extremely.  Afterward  I  saw  Corvisart,  who  an- 
noyed me  about  my  health,  and  pleased  me  by  the  good  opin- 
ion of  you  which  he  is  always  ready  to  express. 

I  dined  alone ;  but  did  not  pass  a  solitary  evening,  for 
Mme.  Devaines,  M.  Simeon,  Abbe  Morellet,  Gallois,  my  sister, 
MM.  de  Lacretelle,  Desfaucherets,*  and  Eaynouard  came  in 
rather  early.  The  latter,  to  whom  I  had  written  a  note  of 
thanks  for  the  two  copies  of  his  play  that  he  had  sent  me, 
had  asked  my  permission  to  be  introduced  to  me.  His  slight 
Provengal  accent  delights  me ;  he  is  simple  in  manner  and 
well  bred.  He  speaks  modestly  of  his  success,  and  gratefully 
of  the  kindness  of  the  public.  He  is  not  blind  to  the  faults 
of  his  piece,  and  desires  very  much  to  obtain  for  it  the  ap- 
probation of  the  Emj)eror,t  to  whom  he  says  he  is  indebted 
for  valuable  criticism  on  the  occasion  when  it  was  read  to  Iiis 
Majesty  by  Fontanes. 

He  recited  some  beautiful  lines  from  his  "  fitats  de  Blois," 
which,  however,  he  is  in  no  hurry  to  produce,  fearing  that 
after  his  recent  triumph  very  much  will  be  expected  of  him. 
He  is  quite  ready  to  cede  his  rights  to  other  authors ;  for  in- 

*  M.  de  Lacretelle,  junior,  the  friend  of  Mme.  d'Houdetot,  was  a  member  of 
the  French  Academy.  M.  Desfaucherets,  author  of  the  comedy  called  "  Le 
Manage  Secret." 

f  He  did  not  obtain  this  approbation,  if  we  may  believe  the  "  Memoirs  dc  M. 
de  Beausset."  "  It  is  probable,"  said  the  Emperor,  "  that  if  M.  Geofifroy's  pa- 
per bad  not  said  so  much  against  the  piece,  others  would  have  said  less  for  it." 


M.  RAYNOUARD.  77 

stance,  to  Legouve,  who  has  just  finished  liis  tragedy,  "  La 
Mort  de  Henri  Quatre,"  to  which  he  attaches  great  impor- 
tance. On  the  whole,  I  am  pleased  with  M.  Raynonard. 
We  read  together  Geoffroy's  last  attack  on  him  and  M.  de 
Lalande.  He  says  he  is  under  an  obligation  to  Geoffroy's 
})aper  for  censure,  which  has  given  him  celebrity,  and  he 
is  determined  never  to  reply  to  it,  because  Fontenelle  was 
greatly  admired  for  his  silence  under  similar  provocation ; 
his  enemies  being  driven  at  last  to  entitle  their  pamphlets 
"  Reponse  au  Silence  de  M.  de  Fontenelle." 

I  have  finished  "  Saint-Evremond,"  which  I  like  very 
much,  I  am  now  reading  "  La  Decadence  des  Romains," 
and  1  think  with  M.  Bertrand,  that  Montesquieu  has  made 
great  use  of  this  early  author,  who  is  not  now  sufficiently 
read.  Their  opinions  are  often  the  same,  and  expressed 
sometimes  in  identical  language.  What  I  like  least,  as  the 
result  of  these  studies  of  mine,  are  the  Romans  themselves — 
the  turbulent,  irritable  Romans.  Notwithstanding  the  cour- 
age and  tenacity  of  their  Senate,  whose  conduct  through 
whole  centuries  I  can  not  help  admiring,  my  opinion  is — 
and  it  is  shared  fortunately  by  many  others — that  a  monarchy 
is  the  best  form  of  government  for  a  nation,  and  I  have  a 
womanly  inclination  even  for  a  little  despotism.  When  I 
have  finished  Montesquieu  I  shall  take  up  Tacitus,  if  you 
give  me  enough  time.  Had  I  leisure,  I  would  try  it  in  Latin, 
in  which  I  beg  to  inform  you  that  I  am  improving.  Charles's 
Latin  lessons  are  of  great  use  to  me,  and  I  am  present  at 
them  as  much  for  my  own  sake  as  for  his.  I  feel  that  it 
would  be  my  favorite  study,  perhaps  because  of  the  beauty 
of  the  language  in  itself,  or  because  I  have  a  natural  turn  for 
that  kind  of  work,  or — and  this  is  the  most  likely — because 
it  recalls  a  time  when  you  first  taught  me,  and  there  was  a 
charm  in  every  pursuit  that  brought  us  together. 

I  have  just  been  interrupted  by  M.  Dudemaine,*  who 

*  M.  Dudemaine  was  son-in-law  to  Mme.  de  Foresta,  my  grandfather's  half- 
sister. 


78  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  REMUSAT. 

came  to  take  leave  ;  he  goes  into  Provence  on  Monday,  and 
hopes  to  see  the  Emperor  there,  because  he  has  been  told 
that  a  petition  was  to  be  addressed  to  his  Majesty,  praying 
him  to  visit  that  part  of  the  country.  I  dare  not  hope  that 
he  may  be  disappointed,  for  I  am  half  a  Provengale  myself, 
and  it  seems  that  our  province  needs  sorely  a  visit  from  its 
master.  People  say  he  is  displeased  with  the  Prefect ;  but 
does  mankind  ever  speak  well  of  those  in  authority  over 
them  ?  and  does  not  their  pride  almost  always  lead  them  to 
revenge  themselves  on  those  who  rule  them  by  censure  ? 


XLY. 

TO   M.    DE    EEMUSAT,    AT   MILAN. 

Paris,  Saturday,  17  Mcssidor,  Year  XIIL 

{July  6,  1805.) 

I  AM  beginning  to  care  less  for  my  desk,  and  the  anticipa- 
tion of  a  far  higher  pleasure  rather  spoils  that  of  writing. 
Is  it  possible  that  I  shall  soon  see  you  again  ?  The  very 
thought  is  a  delight  to  my  poor  heart,  so  saddened  by  your 
long  absence.  I  rejoice  over  it  more  than  I  can  express. 
Time  no  longer  hangs  heavily,  the  house  no  longer  is  gloomy  ; 
it  will  soon  be  your  abode,  and  I  begin  to  take  pleasure  in  it 
once  more. 

After  this  little  outpouring,  I  take  up  my  journal  again, 
which  can  not  be  very  lively  reading  for  you,  but  amuses  me 
to  write.  Yesterday,  after  finishing  my  letter,  I  gave  a  very 
nice  little  dinner  to  Mmes.  de  Ganay,  Sannoise,  Nansouty, 
and  M.  Bertrand.  After  dinner  they  went  to  the  Opera, 
and  I  staid  at  home  with  the  Abbe  Morellet,  who  had  come 
in  to  see  me,  and  with  M.  Pasquier.  I  took  a  little  walk 
with  these  two  gentlemen,  and  so  ended  the  day.  I  went  to 
breakfast  this  morning  with  Mmes.  de  Sainte-Aldegonde, 


TALMA'S  ILLNESS.  79 

wlio  are  no  others  than  Miles.  d'Auniont ;  *  they  were  both 
married  a  few  days  ago.  I  inclose  a  letter  which  thej  beg 
you  to  present  to  the  Empress.  They  do  not  forget  what 
they  owe  to  her  Majesty,  and  they  are  both  happy  and  grate- 
ful. This  is  very  nice  and  also  very  rare.  There  was  no- 
thing very  noteworthy  in  the  remainder  of  the  day.  I  dined 
alone,  and  then  showed  myself  at  the  Archchancellor's ;  he 
has  resumed  his  receptions  after  a  serious  illness.  The  crowd 
was  immense ;  people  just  came  for  a  moment  and  then  dis- 
appeared. I  met  Mme.  de  Lucchesini ;  she  told  me  she  had 
frequently  seen  you,  that  the  Empress  looked  lovely  at  the 
coronation,  and  that  the  Emperor  has  grown  stout.  She  also 
told  me  about  the  fetes,  which,  she  said,  were  splendid.  I 
finished  my  evening  at  the  rran9ais.  "  Le  Philosophe  sans 
le  savoir  "  was  admirably  acted,  but  nobody  there  to  see  it. 
Your  actors  are  in  despair  at  this  desertion  of  their  theatre, 
and  Talma's  illness  is  a  crowning  misfortune.  lie  is  a  little 
better,  but  in  a  state  of  depression  and  melancholy  that  re- 
quires attention,  and  his  comrades  want  him,  ill  or  well,  to 
act  with  them.  I  was  greatly  pleased  at  seeing  "  Le  Philo- 
sophe "  again,  though  it  made  me  cry. 

You  will  find  us  all  here  together  on  your  return,  but 
when  are  you  coming?  The  Archchancellor  told  me  the 
Emperor  had  said  nothing  on  the  subject.  On  the  other 
hand,  M.  de  Fleurien  f  has  gone  to  Fontainebleau.  Are  yovi 
going  to  Marseilles  ?  Will  our  master  take  that  additional 
journey  ?  What  activity  !  what  strength  !  I  think  Boileau's 
line  might  be  applied  to  him  : 

"  Le  ciel  met  sur  le  trone  un  prince  infatigable." 

*  Miles.  d'Aumont  were  two  sisters,  who  had  a  great  friendship  for  my 
grandmother.  She  had  succeeded  in  obtaining  the  restoration  of  their  property 
as  emigres,  as  has  been  told  in  the  Jlemoirs.  They  were  married  on  the  same 
day,  to  two  brothers.     One  of  these  was  a  deputy  under  the  Restoration. 

f  M.  de  Fleurien,  formerly  a  naval  officer,  was  Intoudaut  of  the  Emperor's 
household. 


80  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  BE  R&MUSAT. 

Sunday  Evenhig. 

I  will  begin  my  letter  while  waiting  for  your  Bouffons, 
who  are  to  be  presented  to  me  this  morning  by  Picarcl,  and 
to  sing  something  for  me.  Their  public  performances  will 
begin  soon,  but  they  wished  me  to  see  them  first,  and  I  very 
willingly  consented. 

I  received  this  morning  a  letter  from  Deschamps,  which 
the  Empress  was  so  good  as  to  direct  him  to  write  to  me. 
She  kindly  says  that  she  would  write  herself  but  for  her 
grief  at  this  painful  separation  from  her  son.  I  can  sympa- 
thize with  her.  There  is  no  heart-felt  sorrow  that  I  can  not 
coinj)assionate.  Poor  mothers  and  wives  too  often  j)ay  for 
your  vanities  with  their  tears,  but,  if  I  may  say  so  without 
oilense,  those  acute  feelings  procure  them  a  joy  of  which  you 
can  form  no  idea.;  and  this  seems  to  me  so  precious  an  ad- 
vantage, that  in  sj)ite  of  all  the  drawbacks  of  a  woman's  posi- 
tion, in  spite  even  of  the  delicacy  of  my  health,  which  I  owe 
probably  to  my  sex,  I  would  not  exchange  it  for  yours. 
What  is  the  reason  of  this  preference,  onon  cher  ami?  I 
leave  it  for  you  to  guess.  Ask  your  own  heart,  and  you  will 
soon  be  answered. 

I  am  going  to  dine  with  the  elder  Mme.  Devalues,  and 
afterward  to  pay  a  few  visits.  I  am  taking  advantage  of  my 
liberty,  for  on  "Wednesday  my  little  schoolboy  comes  back  to 
me,  and  then  I  shall  have  but  very  few  leisure  moments. 
My  mother  writes  to  me  that  his  improved  health  convinces 
her  more  than  ever  that  he  ought  to  spend  a  part  of  every 
year  in  the  country,  to  strengthen  his  constitution.  I  have 
several  ideas  on  the  subject  which  I  will  confide  to  you.  I 
don't  think  they  will  be  difficult  to  carry  out.  But  I  hear 
our  musicians  arriving  ;  so  adieu,  until  after  the  concert. 

Sunday  Evening. 

I  am  quite  tired  out  with  listening  and  talking  to  so 
many  persons,  whom  I  could  barely  understand.  Your 
Bouffons,  however,  met  with  approval  from  the  amateurs 


THE  BOUFFONS.  81 

wlio  came  here  to  listen  to  them.  However,  we  made  some 
criticisms ;  none,  liowever,  on  their  appearance.  The  ladies 
are  all  pretty,  very  pretty.  La  Crespy — for  I  must  call  her 
as  she  calls  herself — is  very  nice-looking,  and  her  voice  is,  I 
think,  very  fine.  Mme.  Megliorruchi's  is  worn,  and  she 
sinirs  out  of  tune.  Mile.  Salucchi  has  a  beautiful  voice,  but 
does  not  know  how  to  use  it.  The  hoiiifon,  I  think,  will 
make  us  regret  Martinelli,  but  you  know  that  particular  style 
is  not  adapted  for  a  room.  There  is  one  superb  bass,  and 
another  rather  the  worse  for  wear,  but  good  nevertheless. 
Nozzari  is  best  of  all,  but  he  complains  of  being  the  only 
tenor.*  We  hear  there  will  be  another  beautiful  female 
voice.  I  have  now  given  you  my  opinion,  which  perliaps 
you  did  not  want.  You  are  a  judge  of  beauty,  tnonsieur^ 
and  will  be  congratulated,  when  you  arrive,  on  the  pretty 
faces  you  have  picked  up  on  your  travels.  Whereupon  I 
kiss  you  and  say  adieu.  1  am  now  going  to  Mme.  Devaines's. 
All  the  morning  I  have  been  talking  the  most  wretched 
Italian,  which,  however,  delighted  the  poor  foreigners,  who 
do  not  know  a  word  of  French. 

*  The  Italian  Opera  had  been  opened  in  Paris,  at  the  Olympic  Theatre,  Rue 
de  la  Victoire,  in  1801,  under  the  management  of  Sllle.  Montansier,  who  in  1802 
removed  it  to  the  Salle  Favart.  In  ISOl  Tieard  was  appointed  manager  of  the 
Oi)era,  under  the  direction  of  the  First  Chamberlain,  and  established  it  at  the 
Salle  Louvois,  where  his  company  acted  together  with  the  Comediens  Fran9ai3. 
It  was  there  that  the  tenor  Garcia,  father  of  Mmes.  Malibran  and  Viardot,  made 
his  first  appearance  in  1808.  It  is  not  easy  to  find  in  the  annals  of  the  theatre, 
or  old  almanacs,  the  names  of  the  singers  mentioned  above.  I  find,  however, 
in  the  Revue  dcs  Comediens,  1808,  a  grand  panegyric  of  La  Crespy,  commencing 
thus:  "Is  this  Venus,  or  Minerva,  or  Mme.  Crespj',  advancing  toward  us? 
What  a  beautiful  head!  What  fine  arms!  What  grace!  What  elegance! 
What  a  noble  deportment !  .  .  .  How  can  any  one  say,  after  this,  that  this 
adorable  Italian  has  not  a  good  method  ?  "  etc.,  etc.  Mile.  Salucchi  was  a  grace- 
ful and  intelligent  singer. 


82  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  REMUS  AT. 


XLYI. 

TO   M.    DE    EEMUSAT,    AT   MIL^UST. 

Paris,  Monday  Morning,  ID  Mcssidor,  Year  XIII. 

(;My  8,  1S05.) 

...  I  MUST  tell  you  that  I  am  delighted  with  Montes- 
quieu. I  had  never  read  the  "  Decadence  "  steadily  before, 
but  this  time  I  read  it  at  leisure  and  with  profit.  I  wished 
for  you,  however,  first  because  I  like  you  to  share  in  all  my 
pleasures  and  pursuits,  and  next  because  you  could  have  ex- 
plained certain  things  to  me,  and  set  me  right  on  others ;  it 
would  have  been  a  help.  Only  that  I  know  your  time  is 
fully  occupied,  I  would  tell  you  all  that  struck  me  most  in 
the  book.  It  must  be  an  excellent  guide  for  those  who  want 
to  write  or  make  a  history.  The  author  seems  to  have  been 
in  the  secret  of  every  political  movement,  he  points  out  so 
accurately  the  hidden  springs  of  each.  One  thing  struck  me 
very  much :  on  several  occasions  he  seems  to  have  foreseen 
and  explained  our  Revolution.  If  we  read  him  attentively, 
we  can  understand  all  our  misfortunes  and  all  our  triumphs 
as  well.  ''  There  can  be  no  state,"  he  says,  "  so  threatening 
to  others  as  the  state  involved  in  the  horrors  of  a  civil  war. 
Every  man  becomes  a  soldier,  and  when  peace  is  made  within 
it,  such  a  state  has  great  advantages  over  othere  whose  sub- 
jects are  mostly  mere  citizens."  *  "What  think  you  of  this  ? 
But  I  should  copy  the  whole  book,  if  I  were  to  write  you  all 
that  struck  me.  I  am  so  pleased  with  the  "  Decadence," 
that  I  feel  inclined  to  try  the  "  Esprit  des  Lois  "  ;  but  would 
it  be  too  difficult  ?     I  shall  wait  for  you  to  decide. 

I  went  to  Suresnes  this  morning  to  breakfast  with  Mme. 
de  Yaudemont.  She  has  a  charming  place  there ;  one  would 
never  think  the  village  was  near.  Everything  is  very  sim- 
ple and  in  good  taste  ;  the  garden  is  full  of  flowers,  the  air 

*  "  Considerations  sur  les  Causes  de  la  Grandeur  des  Romaius  et  de  leur 
Decadence,"  chapter  xi. 


MME.  DE  FONTANES.  83 

is  scented,  there  is  a  lawn  and  a  lovely  view ;  in  fact,  I  w\is 
charmed  and  envious.  It  would  suit  us  exactly  !  It  is  but  a 
mile  from  St.  Cloud,  and  quite  near  Paris,  and  then  it  is  a 
tiny  place,  and  just  fit  for  us.  I  sliould  nev^er  wish  for  any- 
thing better. 

On  retm-ning,  I  called  to  take  leave  of  Mme.  de  Ganay, 
who  goes  away  to-morrow.  I  shall  miss  her  very  much. 
Both  my  mother  and  I  like  her.  During  her  stay  here,  she 
had  become  intimate,  I  don't  know  how,  with  Mme.  de 
Fontanes,  who  often  spoke  to  her  of  you.  Among  other 
things,  she  told  her  that  Fontanes  thought  very  highly  of 
your  keen  and  sound  judgment,  and  that  you  were  highly 
informed  and  yet  agreeable.  Only  that  I  fear  to  offend 
your  modesty,  I  should  say  tliat  he  estimates  you  rightly, 
and  that,  for  my  own  part,  I  must  admit  (and  tliis  without 
laying  myseK  open  to  a  charge  of  jmrtiality)  that  the  more 
I  see  of  society,  and  the  more  I  listen  to  others,  the  more 
also  do  I  apj^reciate  you.  By-the-by,  somebody  asked  me 
yesterday  if  you  were  ambitious.  The  question  surprised 
me  at  first ;  not  that  I  should  have  found  any  difficulty  in 
replying,  but  because  experience,  which  I  am  gaining  in 
spite  of  myself,  warns  me  always  to  seek  for  the  motive  of 
questions  before  answering  them.  Alas !  the  time  is  past 
when  I  believed  them  all  to  proceed  from  good-natured  in- 
terest ! 


XLYII. 

TO   M.    DE   KEMUSAT,    AT   STEASBUKG.* 

Paris,  Saturday,  26  Fniclidor,  Year  XIII. 
{September  13,  1S05.) 

I  INTENDED  Writing  to  you  yesterday,  but  I  was  tired  out, 
and  lay  down  all  da}'.     To-day  I  am  perfectly  well.     You 

*  The  Enipcror,  who  had  returned  to  Paris  from  Genoa  in  July,  1805,  went 
again,  at  the  beginning  of  August,  to  Boulogne,  in  order  to  be  present  at  the 


84  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  El^JMUSAT. 

may  believe  me,  for  in  an  hour's  time  I  shall  be  starting  for 
St.  Cloud,  and  you  know  I  never  stir  unless  my  health  al- 
lows of  it.  I  received  a  short  letter  from  you  on  Thursday, 
which  would  have  deeply  grieved  me,  only  that,  by  the  time 
it  reached  me,  I  hoped  your  mind  was  set  at  ease.  It  is  true 
that  I  was  ill  after  you  left  me,  but  not  so  ill  as  you  imagine, 
and  I  should  not  now  say  a  word  about  it  but  for  your  affec- 
tionate inquiries,  I  am  now  quite  well ;  do  not  be  anxious 
and  add  unnecessary  pain  to  the  grief  of  separation. 

I  spent  Thursday  evening  at  St.  Cloud.  There  was  a 
performance  in  the  theatre  of  two  pieces  by  the  Opera  Co- 
niique.  It  was  a  little  languid,  but  in  other  respects  amusing, 
and  the  Emperor  seemed  pleased.  After  the  play  he  went 
to  his  own  apartments,  and  I  remained  for  nearly  an  hour 
with  the  Empress  and  a  few  other  persons,  among  whom 
was  our  new  companion,  Mme.  de  Canisy,*  who  had  been 
appointed  that  morning.     She  is  extremely  pretty. 

Her  Majesty  told  me  that  the  "  Eemmes  Savantcs " 
would  probably  be  performed  in  a  short  time.  The  actors 
have  been  warned,  so  the  piece  is  ready.  Maherault,  w^ho 
called  on  me  this  morning,  is  my  informant.  He  is  taking 
the  Tivoli  baths,  and  this  prevents  him  from  writing  to  you 
as  often  as  he  would  like.  He  asked  me  to  tell  you  that  he 
had  proposed  to  punish  Mile.  Georges,  but  that  the  com- 
mittee opposed  it,  as  she  is  not  altogether  in  the  wrong,  and 
that  they  had  decided  on  a  fine,  with  the  proviso  that,  if  you 
thought  fit,  severer  measures  should  be  resorted  to.     Mahe- 

departure  of  the  army.  War  had  just  been  declared.  He  returned  shortly 
afterward  to  Malmaison,  and  prepared  to  set  out  for  Germany  (where  he  gained 
the  victory  of  Austerlitz),  and  his  First  Chamberlain  received  orders  to  proceed 
to  Strasburg  and  prepare  for  the  arrival  of  the  Emperor  and  Empress.  The  lat- 
ter was  to  remain  at  Strasburg  during  the  war,  while  the  Emperor  and  part  of 
his  household  went  to  the  front. 

*  Mme.  de  Canisy  had  shortly  before  become  the  wife  of  her  cousin,  Equerry 
to  the  Emperor,  She  was  remarkably  lovely,  and  retained  traces  of  beauty  to 
the  end  of  her  life.  Under  the  Restoration,  she  married  M.  de  Caulaincourt, 
Duo  de  Vicenza.     She  died  in  1876. 


COUNT  RUMFOED.  85 

raiilt  says  the  word  prison  struck  terror  into  them  all.  He 
is  always  wishing  for  you,  for  he  feels  too  unwell  to  rule 
with  a  strong  hand.  The  actors  are  complaining  of  Mile. 
Raucourt,  who  is  still  in  the  country  and  never  acts.  Your 
commissioner  will  write  you  particulars  of  all  this  in  a  few 
days.  But  as  delay  is  the  darling  sin  of  the  majority  of 
mankind,  Desfaucherets  has  not  yet  drawn  up  his  statement ; 
he  sends  me  continual  excuses  and  completes  nothing.  I 
scolded  him  both  on  your  account  and  my  own,  and  he  as- 
sures me  that  you  shall  soon  have  it. 

We  are  in  very  low  spirits  here.  Alix  spends  her  time 
crying  because  Nansouty  has  joined  the  army,  and  my  own 
regrets  are  silenced  by  her  grief.  Moreover,  our  friends  the 
Cherons  leave  Paris  to-morrow,  and  my  mother  will  miss 
them  greatly.  Our  winter  will  be  a  dull  one  ;  the  future  is 
so  misty  that  we  dare  rely  on  nothing,  and  we  are  again  in 
the  state  of  uncertainty  from  which  we  were  just  beginning 
to  emerge.  It  is  a  curious  fact,  but  the  uneasiness  and  anx- 
iety I  can  not  help  feeling  under  the  circumstances,  disap- 
pear when  I  find  myself  in  the  presence  of  him  who  never- 
theless is  their  cause.  On  Thursday  night,  at  the  St.  Cloud 
theatre,  when  I  beheld  the  calm  countenance  of  the  Em- 
peror, I  felt  tranquillized  and  assured  of  peace  and  of  our 
future.  When  he  first  entered  his  box,  he  looked  grave 
but  not  anxious.  Toward  the  end  he  often  laughed,  and  I 
felt  tempted  to  thank  him  for  his  gayety,  and  to  augur  well 
from  the  hopes  it  permitted  me  to  entertain. 

If  you  care  for  a  piece  of  news,  I  may  tell  you  that  Count 
Rumford  has  come  back,  and  all  the  members  of  Mme.  La- 
voisier's *  circle  have  fled  at  his  approach.  As  they  know 
not  where  to  go,  I  have  taken  pity  on  them  without  one  re- 
proach for  their  assiduity  elsewhere.  A  coquette  complains  ; 
a  lover  suffers ;  a  friend  alone  can  always  enjoy  without  a 
drawback  the  pleasures  of  the  present  nioinent. 

*  Count  Rumford,  a  German,  born  in  America,  was  paying  his  addresses  to 
Mine.  Lavoisier,  whom  he  afterward  married. 


86  LETTERS   OF  MADAME  DE  RiL'MUSAT. 

Did  I  give  you  the  names  of  the  Ladies-in- Waiting  who 
go  to  Strasburg  ?  I  can  not  recollect.  Writing  so  frequently, 
I  fear  to  repeat  myself ;  there  is  so  little  for  me  to  tell !  I 
seldom  go  out ;  I  see  few  persons,  and  always  the  same  few, 
and  they  always  say  just  the  same  things.  When  alone,  I 
read  ;  that  is  my  great  resource.  During  your  stay  in  Italy, 
I  used  to  write  to  you  on  Roman  history ;  now  the  history  of 
France,  which  I  have  just  taken  up,  will  be  my  subject.  It 
is  not  an  edifying  one.  Our  proud  and  boastful  nation  has 
always  been  as  inconsistent,  and  frequently  as  unjust  and  as 
cruel,  as  others.  The  following  reflection  occurred  to  me : 
judging  from  the  excesses  into  which  she  has  plunged,  France 
is  less  adapted  than  other  nations  for  liberal  self-government. 
I  ventured  on  airing  this  opinion  before  our  old  friend,*  but 
you  should  have  heard  him  lecture  me  on  my  hankering  after 
despotism !  "  He  was  not  surprised,  however — all  women 
have  a  leaning  that  way."  This  reminds  me  that  one  even- 
ing, when  with  two  other  ladies  I  was  playing  at  cards  with 
the  Emperor,  and  he  had  been  amusing  himself  with  some  of 
the  small  gossip  of  which  feminine  conversations  usually  con- 
sist, he  said  laughingly,  "  Noiis  autres  feinmes^''  and  I  was 
greatly  inclined  to  answer,  '■''Nous  aiitres  I'o'is^  But  how  I 
am  gossiping  !  Adieu.  I  am  now  going  to  St.  Cloud,  and 
will  resume  my  letter  when  I  get  back. 

Sunday  Morning. 

Bon  jour ^  raon  ami.  I  begin  my  day,  as  usual,  by  think- 
ing of  you,  and  I  allow  myself  the  pleasure,  besides,  of  tell- 
ing you  so  directly  I  wake.  I  went  to  St.  Cloud  yesterday. 
The  Empress,  who  as  usual  was  kindness  itself,  expressed  a 
wish  to  see  me  of tener.  I  asked  her  permission  to  stay  a  few 
days  with  her,  to  which  she  consented  with  a  readiness  that 
went  straight  to  my  heart.  To-morrow,  therefore,  I  shall 
take  up  my  abode  in  that  royal  palace,  which,  between  our- 
selves, seems  to  me  gloomier  than  ever.     I  know  not  how  it 

*  This  old  friend  must  be  the  Abbe  Morellet. 


AT  ST.    CLOUD.  87 

is,  but  each  day  seems  to  increase  the  general  reserve  and 
suspicion.  People  seem  half  afraid  of  conversing  even  on 
the  most  trivial  subjects  ;  there  seems  to  be  a  prevailing  want 
of  harmony,  and  yet,  could  all  hearts  be  ojiencd,  I  feel  sure 
that  the  sentiments  of  each  would  be  extraordinarily  alike. 
For  my  own  part,  I  glide  quietly  on  my  way,  without  pre- 
tensions of  any  kind,  and,  as  1  stand  in  no  one's  path,  I  am 
treated  with  great  civility,  and  I  think  I  am  not  disliked. 
Only  that  I  have  a  real  affection  for  the  Empress,  I  confess 
I  should  have  found  it  hard  to  leave  my  mother  and  children 
while  you  are  away,  but  I  owe  her  so  much  love  and  grati- 
tude, and  I  have  no  opportunity  of  showing  them  except  by 
attending  on  her.  I  must  not  complain,  therefore,  since  my 
actions  are  nearly  always  regulated  by  my  aifections. 


XLYIII. 

TO   M.    ])E   REMUSAT,    AT    STRASBURG. 

St.  Cloud,  Tuesday,  30  FrncHdo}-,  Year  XIII. 
[September  17,  1805.) 

I  AM  writing  to  you  from  St.  Cloud.  I  arrived  here  yes- 
terday evening,  and  now  I  am  far  from  all  those  I  love  best. 
My  mother  was  rather  depressed  at  my  leaving  her,  for  she 
will  be  quite  alone.  Our  friends  the  Cherons  are  on  their 
way  to  Poitiers.  You  can  imagine  how  she  will  miss  them, 
and  what  a  deprivation  it  is  for  Charles ;  they  were  both 
quite  sorrowful  at  losing  me.  But  the  Empress  is  so  kind  to 
me ;  and  then,  as  she  herself  is  on  the  point  of  departure,  I 
was  anxious  to  spend  a  few  days  with  her.  She  is  dcliglited 
at  the  return  of  Princess  Louis.*  Both  mother  and  daughter 
wept  with  joy  on  meeting ;  tliey  liave  been  truly  happy  to- 
gether, which  is  rare  in  their  high  station,  and  perhaps  not 
very  frequent  in  a  lower  rank  of  life. 

*  I'riuccss  Loiii.s  BoHnjiarto,  or  Qnoon  Ilortcnse. 


88  J.ETTERS   OF  MADAME  DE  REMUSAT. 

Prince  Louis  strikes  me  as  being  thinner  and  feeble  ;  liis 
little  son  is  a  fine  child.*  They  left  us  at  eight  o'clock,  and 
we  remained,  a  party  of  ladies  only,  until  it  was  time  to  retire. 
As  you  may  imagine,  the  conversation  was  not  very  lively. 
It  turned  partly  on  the  neglect  with  which  we  are  treated  by 
you  gentlemen  of  the  Emperor's  household,  and  we  asked  our- 
selves, but  of  course  without  obtaining  any  satisfactory  an- 
swer, why  you  are  not  more  attentive  to  us.  Afterward  the 
Emperor  sent  for  the  Empress,  and  we  withdrew.  I  saw  M. 
de  Caulaincourt  for  a  moment  and  gave  him  your  message. 
He  thinks  the  Court  will  depart  on  the  1st  or  2d  of  the 
month,  so  you  will  soon  see  their  Majesties,  and  we  shall  be 
reduced  to  solitude  again. 

Immediately  on  waking  this  morning  I  threw  open  my 
shutters,  and  the  first  person  I  saw  was  the  Emperor  walking 
in  the  park.  He  is  the  first  to  rise  and  the  last  to  retire, 
always  ready  and  active.  May  Heaven  protect  and  watch 
over  him  !  You  may  be  sure  that  this  will  be  the  subject 
of  my  morning  prayer. 

You  are  very  good  to  tell  me  about  your  Alsatian  family  ; 
I  quite  love  the  kind  people  who  know  how  to  a23preciate 
you.  Your  assurances  of  affection  give  me  such  pleasure ! 
I  rely  with  entire  confidence  on  their  sincerity !  O  mon 
ami,  how  sweet  it  is  to  have  such  a  feeling !  Our  mutual 
affection  seems  like  a  haven  of  rest  amid  the  storms  of  life ; 
it  will  soothe  all  the  sorrows  that  we  are  perhaps  destined  to 
endure,  and  will  add  to  all  our  joys. 

My  mother  begs  you  to  thank  Mme.  Dietrich  f  for  her 
remembrance ;  she  says  she  found  her  a  charming  woman, 
and  retains  a  great  regard  for  her.  Adieu  for  the  present. 
I  must  dress  and  go  down  to  the  Empress ;  I  shall  return  to 
my  letter  afterward. 

*  This  wai?  the  eldest  son  of  Queen  Hortensc.     He  died  of  croup  in  Holland. 

f  Mme.  Dietrich  was  the  widow,  I  believe,  of  the  Mayor  of  Strasburg  who 
had  perished  in  the  Revolution,  and  the  mother  of  Mme.  Scipion  Perier  and 
Mme.  de  Sahune. 


PREPARATIONS  FOR  DEPARTURE.  ,  89 

Wednesday. 

I  was  unable  to  resume  my  letter  yesterday  ;  not  that  I 
had  much  other  occupation,  but  you  know  how  the  time  slips 
by  here,  and,  although  it  is  not  actually  employed  in  any  way, 
still  it  is  not  at  one's  own  disposal.  In  the  morning  the  Em- 
press received  a  great  number  of  persons  as  usual,  and  while 
she  was  giving  audiences  and  hearing  petitions  and  com- 
plaints of  all  kinds,  I  sat  at  work  in  a  corner  of  the  room, 
thinking  of  you,  my  dearest,  and  of  the  devoted  affection 

that  makes  my  life  happy  and  dear  to  me.     Mme.  de  S 

was  by  my  side,  and,  without  malice,  I  could  perhaps  tell  of 
what  or  of  whom  she  was  thinking ;  for,  between  ourselves, 
she  makes  no  attempt  to  conceal  the  object  of  her  thoughts 
nor  the  pleasure  they  give  her.  She  is  very  often  here,  and 
says  ojyenly  that  their  Majesties  take  great  pleasure  in  her  so- 
cietv  and  in  her  conversation.  This  I  can  easily  believe; 
but  by  proclaiming  the  fact  she  excites  a  good  deal  of  jeal- 
ousy. She  forgets  that  the  world  seldom  forgives,  especially 
in  a  woman,  any  triumph  of  which  she  appears  in  the  least 
conscious. 

Everything  is  being  got  ready  here  for  immediate  depart- 
ure, and  you  will  soon  be  in  the  midst  of  bustle,  and  I  in 
profound  quiet.  How  dull  and  sad  1  shall  be  until  the  day 
of  your  return  !  How  uninteresting  everything  is  when  you 
are  away ! 

I  have  been  acting  as  First  Chamberlain  this  morning. 
The  Emperor  has  commanded  the  "  Menteur  "  for  to-morrow 
at  St.  Cloud.  I  wrote  immediately  to  Maherault ;  I  gave 
orders  about  the  scenery  ;  in  fact,  you  would  be  pleased  with 
all  the  pains  I  have  taken  with  the  performance.  I  should 
like  his  Majesty  to  recognize  your  zeal  in  the  perfection  of 
the  piece,  and  to  feel  that  you  and  I  are  in  partnei-shi])  in  our 
desire  to  please  him. 

My  mother  writes  that  her  little  favorite  is  perfectly  well. 
I  saw  her  for  a  moment  last  night  at  the  Opera,  whither  I 
accompanied  the  Empress.    "  Don  (riovanni  "  was  performed, 


K 


90  lETTERS   OF  MADAME  DE  REMUSAT. 

but,  notwitlistanding  the  beauty  of  the  music,  was  not  a  great 
success.  Parisians  follow  the  fashion  in  affecting  to  admire 
Mozart,  but  they  are  not  sufficient  musicians  to  appreciate 
his  genius.  I  must  admit  also  that  the  opera  was  not  par- 
ticularly well  rendered.  The  Emperor  was  not  present — he 
waited  to  hear  the  verdict ;  perhaps  he  will  go  on  Friday  to 
take  leave  of  the  Parisians, 

Adieu.  I  must  now  rise  and  find  my  way  down-stairs. 
I  am  expecting  my  poor  Alix,  who  is  full  of  alf  sorts  of  anxi- 
ety ;  you  can  understand  why.  "What  vexations  and  crosses 
there  are  in  life !  On  the  other  hand,  what  blessings  and 
delights  when  the  journey  is  made  with  you ! 


XLIX. 

TO   M.    DE   EEMUSAT,    AT    STRASBUKG. 

St.  Cloud,  Tuesday,  1st  Complementary,  Year  XIII. 

{September  IS,  1S05.) 

Since  yesterday  I  have  been  most  anxious  to  tell  you  of 
several  things  that  I  have  heard,  but  was  afraid  of  trusting  to 
the  post ;  Hebert,*  however,  is  just  starting,  and  I  shall  send 
my  letter  by  him.  Again  it  is  Comedie  that  is  in  question. 
Yesterday,  Monday,  before  coming  to  St.  Cloud,  I  had  Des- 
faucherets  to  dine  with  me,  and  he  gave  me  the  following 
history :  Last  Friday  Miles.  Duchesnois,  Volnais,  and  Bour- 
goin  betook  themselves  to  St.  Cloud,  where  the  Empress  re- 
ceived them.  The  first  lady  asked  for  her  holiday,  the  sec- 
ond for  a  more  important  role,  and  the  third  for  I  know  not 
what.  They  complained  also  of  you.  The  Empress  listened 
to  everything  with  her  usual  kindness^  and  protested  against 
injustice.    She  sent  for  Auguste  de  Talleyrand,f  and  ordered 

*  The  Emperor's  valet. 

f  M.  Auguste  de  Talleyrand,  cousia  to  M.  de  Talleyrand,  was  one  of  the 


TROUBLES  AT  THE   GOM^DIE.       ,  91 

him  to  give  the  young  ladies  a  holiday  and  a  role.  Auguste, 
who  was  quite  taken  aback,  said  he  had  no  power  to  do  this, 
and  that  he  could  only  venture  on  it  if  her  Majesty  would 
give  express  commands  to  that  effect.  As  she  did  not  think 
proper  to  commit  herself  so  far,  she  dismissed  the  young  la- 
dies with  many  promises.  You  may  imagine  the  bad  effect 
of  this  at  the  theatre.  Auguste  de  Talleyrand,  on  his  way 
up  to  his  own  quarters,  told  the  whole  story  to  Campenon,* 
adding  that  he  did  not  know  what  offense  you  had  given  at 
the  theatre,  but  that  the  Emperor  had  said  things  were  get- 
ting on  very  badly  there.  Desfaucherets  also  told  me  that 
Campenon  receives  threatening  anonymous  letters  every  day ; 
he  is  warned  to  expect  a  thrashing,  and  is  told  that  your  in- 
tentions are  well  known  (I  do  not  know  how),  and  that  it  is 
not  to  be  endured  that  a  man  like  himself,  who  thinks  poorly 
of  actors,  should  be  allowed  to  govern  them.  Lastly,  Dazin- 
court  paid  him  a  visit  of  congratulation  and  abused  Mahe- 
rault.  I  considered  that  you  ought  to  be  informed  of  all 
this.  You  would  do  well  to  come  to  some  arrangement,  for 
everything  is  greatly  disorganized  here.  As  for  me,  I  will  do 
my  best  to  shield  you  during  the  short  remaining  stay  of  their 
Majesties,  and,  if  I  hear  anything  further,  I  shall  contrive 
some  way  of  letting  you  know. 

3fon  ami,  I  wish  also  to  speak  to  you  about  M.  de  ]S"an- 
souty.  Caulaincourt  told  me  that  the  Emperor  had  stated 
publicly  that  he  had  received  his  resignation.  I  mentioned 
tliis  to  Prince  Louis,  who  seemed  to  take  a  great  interest  in 
the  matter.  He  blames  Nansouty,  however,  for  taking  such 
a  step,  but  will  try  to  smooth  matters  over.     I  may  not  hear 

Chamberlains  and  had  the  care  of  the  Opera  Comique.  lie  also  undertook  the 
First  Chamberlain's  duties  in  the  absence  of  the  latter.  Under  the  Restoration 
he  was  minister  in  Switzerland; 

*  M.  Campenon,  a  literary  man  and  subsequently  a  member  of  the  French 
Academy,  was,  cither  then  or  shortly  afterward,  Imperial  Commissioner  of  the 
Opera  Comique.  He  filled  Maheraidt's  place  at  the  Theitre  Fran^ais  during  his 
illness,  and  there  was  some  intention  of  keeping  him  there  permanently. 


92  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  R^MUSAT. 

anytliing  more  of  it  here,  but  you  will  probably  know,  being 
on  the  spot,  and  will  keep  nie  informed.* 

I  am  so  hurried,  as  Hebert  is  starting,  that  I  must  con- 
clude my  letter.  Moreover,  these  vexatious  incidents  are 
depressing,  and  I  feel  almost  unable  to  write  on  other  sub- 
jects. You  in  your  wisdom  will  act  as  you  think  fit,  while  I, 
in  my  love  for  you,  can  only  distress  myself.  Adieu.  I 
have  been  here  at  St.  Cloud  since  yesterday  evening.  They 
talk  to  me  of  you  there,  but  I  would  rather  talk  of  you  with 
Charles. 


L. 

TO   M.  DE   EEMUSAT,    AT    STKASBUEG. 

Tliursday,  2d  Complemeniary,  Year  XIII. 
{September  19,  1805.) 

I  AM  in  a  state  of  nervousness  such  as  you  have  often  ex- 
perienced on  days  of  performance  at  the  Comedie.  I  hope 
all  will  go  well  this  evening,  and  please  the  Emperor ;  if  not, 
I  shall  be  terribly  disappointed.  A  circumstance  has  hap- 
pened at  the  Comedie  with  regard  to  this  performance,  for 
which  I  am  partly  to  blame.  About  a  year  ago  I  saw  Fleury 
act  the  Menteur^  and  Dugazon  the  Yalet^  so  I  wrote  to  Ma- 
herault  asking  him  for  those  two  actors.  Dazincourt  f  flew 
into  a  violent  passion,  and  wrote  to  me,  saying  that  you  had 
divided  the  part  of  the  valet  into  two,  and  that  the  Mentcur 
was  one  of  his  parts.  He  said  that  if  the  Emperor  com- 
manded it  he  would  obev,  but  that  he  should  at  the  same 
time  send  in  his  resignation.  As  his  Majesty  had  said  nothing 
about  the  actors,  I  wrote  to  Maherault  that  I  did  not  claim 

*  M.  de  Nansouty  had  been  appointed  Chamberlain  to  the  Empress,  a  very 
insignificant  post,  which  he  resigned,  without,  however,  falHng  into  disgrace  with 
the  Emperor,  who  made  him  his  First  Equerry. 

f  Dazincourt's  reputation  as  an  actor  was  inferior  to  that  of  Dugazon,  his 
colleague. 


DOINGS  AT  THE  PALACE.  93 

the  slightest  right  to  alter  the  distribution  of  the  parts,  and 
that  therefore  M.  Dazincourt  must  act.  This  is  my  most 
serious  misadventure  at  present. 

Since  I  am  on  the  subject  of  the  tr'ipot.,  I  must  tell  you 
that  the  three  actresses  who  were  received  by  the  Empress 
have  since  made  a  great  boast  of  their  visit  to  her.  I  men- 
tioned this  to  her  Majesty,  who  commanded  me  to  tell  you 
that  what  she  said  to  them  has  been  greatly  exaggerated ; 
that,  far  from  promising  leave  of  absence  to  Mile.  Duches- 
nois,  she  had  replied  that  since  you,  who  are  her  director,  had 
refused  her  application,  there  must  be  good  reasons  for  not 
granting  it.  But  all  the  additions  made  to  her  words  by  these 
young  ladies  have  convinced  her  that  she  will  do  well  not  to 
admit  them  in  future.  When  she  arrives  at  Strasburg  you 
will  be  able,  much  better  than  I,  to  explain  your  reasons  for 
refusing  leave  of  absence.  Believe  me.,  it  is  of  pressing  im- 
portance that  you  should  contrive  a  favorable  o^jportimity  of 
discussing  all  that  I  wrote  to  you  by  Hebert. 

My  mind  has  been  set  quite  at  ease  on  the  subject  about 
which  I  wrote  the  other  day.  My  brother-in-law's  affair 
seems  to  be  arranged.  What  Caulaincourt  told  me  was 
merely  a  hearsay.  Nansouty  was  told,  on  the  contrary,  that 
fighting  was  at  hand,  and  that  he  must  remain,  and  that 
on  his  return  matters  should  be  settled  differently.  Alix 
came  here  yesterday  morning.  The  Empress  kept  her  to 
dinner  and  treated  her  with  the  greatest  kindness.  At  five 
o'clock  we  walked  out  with  the  Emperor.  It  was  the  first 
time  I  had  spoken  with  him  since  my  arrival.  He  inquired 
very  kindly  after  you,  and  asked  Alix  after  her  husband  in 
a  way  that  quite  reassured  her.  After  our  walk  came  dinner, 
and  in  the  evening  we  sang  and  danced  with  Princess  Louis. 
The  Empress  was  in  a  state  of  enchantment  with  her  grand- 
son, who  had  been  behaving  very  prettily  to  his  uncle.  He 
is  really  a  sweet  child,  prattling  all  sorts  of  pretty  little 
speeches  without  appearing  to  have  learned  them.  He  has 
the  kind  heart  of  his  motlier,  whom  I  can  never  praise  too 


94  LETTERS   OF  MADAME  BE  E^MUSAT. 

miicli.  She  seems  to  me  to  grow  every  day  in  wisdom  and  in 
grace ;  she  combines  great  simplicity  of  manner  with  perfect 
dignity,  and  an  enlightened  judgment  with  an  unfailing  in- 
dulgence. Princess  Borghese  is  here,  rather  better  in  health, 
but  still  extremely  weak.  She  looks  lovely  in  her  deep 
mourning;  her  abiding  grief,  and  the  sorrowful  thoughts 
it  occasions  her,  have  given  a  certain  melancholy  grace 
to  her  demeanor  which  is  not  unattractive.  She  is  very 
affable,  and  I,  in  particular,  can  only  congratulate  myself 
on  her  behavior  toward  me. 

I  had  news  of  our  children  yesterday  ;  they  are  perfectly 
well.  I  am  going  to  write  to  Charles  ;  if  you  have  any  mes- 
sage for  him  send  it  me  quickly.  Adieu  for  to-day.  I  will 
not  close  my  letter  until  to-morrow,  so  as  to  give  you  an  ac- 
count of  the  play  to-night.  Auguste  de  Talleyrand  is  in  the 
country ;  M.  de  Yiry  *  and  I  are  managing  everything. 

Friday  Morning. 

The  play  went  off  well ;  the  Emperor  was  pleased,  and 
the  "  Menteur  "  was  acted  to  perfection.  Until  seven  o'clock 
I  was  on  thorns,  as  you  used  to  be.  When  dinner  was  over 
I  went  to  the  theatre  to  give  a  Chamberlain's  eye  to  every- 
thing. All  the  actors  had  arrived,  except  Mme.  Talma.f 
Six  o'clock  came,  then  seven,  and  no  Mme.  Talma.  I  was  as 
distressed  as  a  certain  friend  of  mine  on  similar  occasions, 
especially  as  the  Emperor  wanted  the  play  early  in  order  to 
hold  a  council  afterward.  At  last,  at  half-past  seven,  she 
made  her  appearance,  accompanied  by  her  husband,  whom  I 

*  M.  de  Viry  was  a  Piedmontese  and  one  of  the  Emperor's  Chamberlains. 
He  was  made  a  senator  shortly  afterward. 

f  This  was  Talma's  second  wife,  Mile.  Vanhove,  a  daughter  of  Monvel's. 
She  had  been  divorced  from  her  first  husband,  M.  Petit.  She  appeared  first  in 
tragedy,  and,  it  seems,  acted  very  effectively.  Afterward  she  acted  the  prin- 
cipal parts  in  comedy,  and  succeeded  equally  well.  She  was  even  thought  to 
surpass  Mile.  Contat  in  parts  requiring  simplicity,  truth,  and  modesty,  rather 
than  coquetry  and  display.  After  Talma's  death,  she  married  the  Vicomte  do 
Chaiot. 


Lo8  AiigeteJ,  Cal. 
CHARLES  PRESENTED    TO   TEE  EMPRESS.  95 

bad  to  quiet  down.  They  Lad  come  in  a  liackney-eoach,  the 
liorses  walking,  and  Talma  exciting  himself  to  such  a  degree 
that  he  was  ill  on  arriving,  and  could  not  have  acted  if  wanted. 
But  .all  went  well,  and  you  would  have  been  satisfied.  Talma 
told  me  that  the  Minister  of  Police  had  spoken  to  the  Em- 
peror on  his  behalf,  and  that  his  Majesty  had  replied  that  he 
had  intended  speaking  to  you  on  the  subject  of  the  theatre 
and  of  Talma,  but  that  you  were  gone,  and  that  he  would 
do  so  latei'.  I  believe  this  will  be  the  last  performance,  and 
that  the  departure  of  the  Court  is  close  at  hand.  My  heart 
aches  when  I  think  of  it ;  there  will  be  sad  leave-takings. 
Five  of  your  Chamberlains  will  join  you.  The  Empress 
does  not  know  whom  she  is  to  take  with  her.  She  wishes  to 
start  with  the  Emperor,  but  no  preparations  are  being  made 
in  her  household.  I  am  beginning  to  make  mine  for  my 
quiet  retreat.  By-the-way,  would  you  believe  that  our  ten 
thousand  francs  are  not  yet  j)aid  ?  I  am  beginning  to  de- 
spair, and  I  don't  know  how  I  shall  j^ay  my  debts.  If 
all  our  endeavors  are  vain,  you  must  make  a  last  eifort  at 
Strasburg. 

I  had  the  pleasure  of  j^resenting  your  son  to  the  Empress 
yesterday.  She  thought  him  greatly  improved,  and  pre- 
dicted that  he  will  be  a  very  handsome  man.  I  felt  a  little 
proud,  I  must  confess,  of  my  fine  boy,  as  I  was  leading  him 
about  from  room  to  room.  He  kissed  her  Majesty's  hand 
very  prettily  ;  you  know  how  graceful  he  is ;  and  the  rest  of 
the  day  he  rambled  about  in  the  gardens  and  park.  Both  he 
and  I  grumbled  at  having  no  letters  from  you  for  the  last 
five  days.  You  can  not  say  the  same  of  me,  for  you  must 
have  received  several. 


90  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  REMUSAT. 

LI. 

TO   M.    DE    KEMUSAT,    AT   STKASBUKG. 

Saturday,  4ih  Complerrmxlary,  Year  XIII. 
{Seplember  21,  1805.) 

I  COME  to  you,  mon  ami,  quite  tired  out  with  my  morn- 
ing ;  I  feel  the  need  of  communion  with  a  heart  that  can 
understand  mine,  and  of  mingling  a  little  affection  with  the 
day's  work.  From  ten  o'clock  this  morning  the  Empress 
has  been  receiving  such  a  number  of  people  that  I  have  not 
been  able  to  see  her  for  one  moment.  I  have  passed  the 
whole  time  among  strange  faces  that  interested  me  but  little. 
Among  others,  I  saw  Mme.  de  Coigny  *  for  the  first  time. 
She  completely  bewildered  me  by  her  flow  of  words  and 
screeching  voice.  She  did  me  the  honor  of  addressing  most 
of  her  conversation  to  me,  but  can  have  no  higli  idea  of  my 
intelligence,  for  I  was  so  astonished  at  her  style  of  behavior 
that  I  felt  no  inclination  to  reply.  I  do  not  know  how  the 
Empress  can  listen  patiently  to  so  many  persons.  It  would 
be  quite  beyond  my  power,  and  I  am  always  filled  with  ad- 
miration at  the  unwearied  kindness  with  which  she  receives 
the  petitions  of  the  last  as  well  as  of  the  first  comers. 

Meanwhile  the  Emperor  is  working  with  superhuman  as- 
siduity. Sometimes,  when  over-tired,  he  goes  to  bed  at  seven 
or  eight  o'clock  and  is  up  again  at  eleven.  It  is  reported 
here  that  on  Monday  he  goes  to  the  Senate,  and  will  start 
immediately  afterward.  Mo7i  ami,  what  a  journey !  How 
anxious  it  makes  me !  I  feel  as  if  with  him  all  the  repose 
and  happiness  we  were  beginning  to  enjoy  will  depart.  May 
Heaven  watch  over  him  !     You  know  that  when  I  am  in 

*  The  Marquise  de  Coigny  (Mile,  de  Conflans),  the  mother  of  Mme.  Sebas- 
tiani,  was  a  clever  woman  of  the  old-fashioned  type.  My  father  had  met  her  in 
his  youth,  and  remembered  her  rather  affected  and  sharp  sayings.  She  had  a 
great  reputation  for  wit,  but  a  coarse  voice,  which  made  people  say  that  there 
was  only  one  against  her — her  own. 


MLLE.    VOLNAIS.  97 

trouble  I  have  recourse  to  religion,  which  alone  comforts  me. 
Whatever  you  may,  all  of  you,  say  against  it,  this  inclination 
to  turn  toward  God  when  our  soul  is  sorrowful,  is  one  of  the 
best  gifts  of  his  goodness,  and  a  strong  proof  of  his  exist- 
ence in  a  world  that  is  full  of  troubles.  To  return  to  mine : 
when  I  question  the  depths  of  my  heart,  I  find  they  are 
caused  first  by  my  separation  from  you,  and  by  my  position, 
which  is  so  contrary  to  all  my  feelings  and  inclinations  and 
individuality.  Thinking  thus,  I  am  disposed  to  look  at  the 
dark  side  of  everything,  and  I  should  not  be  surprised  at  any 
additional  sorrow,  nor  even  a  fresh  calamity.  Mon  ami^ 
your  presence  would  banish  all  these  feelings,  and  your  words 
of  love  and  affection  would  sustain  me  under  the  misfortunes 
with  which,  perhaps,  we  are  threatened.  To  us  women,  the 
tender  emotions  of  the  heart  are  all  that  is  of  importance  in 
our  lives,  while  to  most  men  they  are  only  an  occasional 
solace.  This  remark,  however,  which  has  slipped  somehow 
from  my  pen,  is  far  from  being  applicable  to  you,  and  in 
whatever  position  we  may  be  placed  in  the  future,  our  mut- 
ual affection  will  sustain  us  in  affliction,  or  double  all  our 
joy.  .  .  . 

I  have  just  been  receiving  Mile.  Volnais.*  The  Empress 
is  overwhelmed  with  her  visits.  The  young  lady  informed 
me  that  you  had  advised  her  to  obtain  a  powerful  patron  or 
patroness,  and  that,  if  I  were  to  write  to  you  that  she  was 
befriended  by  her  Majesty,  you  would  accede  to  her  request 
with  respect  to  the  Comcdie.  I  could  not  understand  her 
long  rigmarole ;  she  says  that  Mile.  Bourgoin  is  extremely 

*  Mile.  "Volnais  was  a  descendant  of  Placide,  the  tight-rope  dancer.     She 

came  out  at  the  Coraedie  Fran9aise  in  1800,  and  retired  from  the  stage  in  1822. 

She  was  celebrated   for  her  beauty,  and  was  considered  a  superior  actress  in 

quiet  or  tender  characters,  both  of  tragedy  and  comedy.     She  returned  to  the 

stage  in  1833,  undertaking  successfully  the  part  of  la  Mhe  coupable.     Mile. 

Bourgoin,  her  especial  rival,  acted  also  a  great  variety  of  parts,  or,  as  it  used  to 

be  called  at  the  time,  wore  with  equal  ease  the  sock  or  the  buskin — we  should 

express  it  at  the  present  day,  "She  wore  either  mask." 
5 


98  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  REMUSAT. 

insolent  and  makes  lier  life  wretched.  I  promised,  as  I 
always  do,  to  write  to  you,  and  I  have  kept  my  word. 

I  have  just  received  a  letter  from  you,  very  sweet  and  a 
little  sad ;  it  just  suits  my  mood.  How  well  you  describe 
what  I  have  been  feeling  for  the  last  month,  and  how  true  it 
is  that  it  will  alternately  brighten  and  dim  the  recollections 
of  the  past !  You  say  you  are  dull  too.  Although  my  af- 
fection is  gratified  by  the  regrets  you  do  not  hide  from  me,  I 
yet  feel  ill  at  ease  when  I  think  that  you  are  melancholy.  I 
have  long  wished  that  when  we  are  perforce  separated,  I  could 
keep  all  the  suffering  for  my  own  share.  The  Emperor  was 
asking  after  you  the  day  before  yesterday,  and  whether  you 
had  mentioned  the  pretty  Alsatian  women  to  me. 

We  see  very  little  of  his  Majesty.  Ever  since  I  came 
here  on  Monday  he  has  been  unceasingly  at  work ;  I  have 
only  seen  him  twice.  One  might  well  say  of  him,  as  of  the 
King  of  Prussia,  "  Here  is  a  king  who  does  not  spare  him- 
self!" 


LII. 


TO   M.    DE   EEMUSAT,  AT   STRASBURG. 

Paris,  Sunday,  5  Complementaire,  Year  XIII 
{September  22,  1805.) 

M.  DE  Caulaincourt  is  good  enough  to  take  charge  of 
this  letter.  He  will  see  you  in  a  very  few  days.  Just  now, 
at  the  moment  of  the  Emperor's  departure,  I  feel  more  sor- 
row^ful  than  ever  that  I  may  not  join  you,  for  it  is  no  use 
deceiving  one's  self,  and  I  think  it  will  be  long  before  we 
meet  again. 

I  hope  at  least  that  you  will  not  be  seized  with  M.  de 
Lugay's  martial  ardor ;  it  made  me  tremble  yesterday.  You 
must  know  that  in  order  to  satisfy  a  large  number  of  the 
nobility  who  wish  to  serve,  but  whom  there  would  be  a  diffi- 
culty in  placing  in  the  army,  the  Emperor  has  invented  a 


THE  GUARD   OF  HONOR.  99 

guard  of  honor,  to  which  any  one  with  a  certain  amount  of 
fortune  will  be  eligible.  This  corps,  which  is  commanded 
by  M.  de  Segur,  will  escort  his  Majesty.  M.  de  Bouille  has 
joined  it,  and  so  has  Cesar  de  Choiseul.*  M.  de  Lu§ay  came 
yesterday  to  ask  me  whether  I  did  not  think  it  was  the  Em- 
peror's intention  that  all  his  household  should  enter  this 
corps,  and  what  I  was  going  to  advise  you  to  do,  I  can  not 
describe  to  you  my  feelings  when  he  asked  me  this  question ; 
I  really  believe  my  hair  stood  on  end,  and  I  felt  a  sharp  pain 
at  my  heart.  I  replied,  however,  that  had  you  been  under 
thirty  years  of  age,  whatever  might  have  been  my  own  feel- 
ings, I  certainly  should  have  advised  you  to  join,  but  that, 
although  you  were  still  young,  I  did  not  think  you  sufficiently 
so  to  change  your  calling  in  life,  especially  being  a  married 
man  and  the  father  of  a  family.  On  this  I  left  him  and  wept 
in  solitude,  quite  unable  to  restrain  myself ;  I  was  so  upset, 
that  I  found  myself  speaking  aloud  to  you  as  if  you  could 
hear  me.  I  regret  now  what  I  wrote  to  you  yesterday.  Do 
not,  my  beloved,  add  fresh  troubles  to  the  sorrow  of  separa- 
tion. I  suffer,  but  I  will  not  murmur  at  your  absence,  since 
you  are  doing  your  duty.  Follow  your  Emperor ;  serve  him 
at  the  post  to  which  he  has  appointed  you ;  but  think  of  me 
also,  for  for  further  anxieties  courage  fails  me.  .  .  . 

Monday  Morning. 

The  Emperor  is  going  to  the  Senate,  and  has  asked  for 
his  ffala-coat  and  his  diamonds.  You  have  taken  awav  the 
keys,  so  the  locks  had  to  be  forced.  He  will  take  his  depart- 
ure to-morrow,  it  seems.  There  is  a  gloom  over  everything 
here,  and  I  have  no  courage  to  speak  to  any  one  except  Cau- 
laincourt.  To  him  and  to  his  friendship  I  have  confided  my 
fears  and  anxieties,  and  he  promised  to  watch  over  you  with 

*  This  M.  de  Bouille  died  blind,  leaving  a  son,  the  Marquis  Rene  dc  Roiiill6, 
who  was  ambassador  in  Spain  under  M.  Thicrs's  Governnaent.  Cesar  de  Choiseul- 
Beaupr6  was  aide-de-camp  to  M.  de  Nansouty,  to  whom  he  was  distantly  related. 
His  widow  married  the  Prince  dc  Polignac. 


100  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  REMUSAT. 

a  kindliness  that  touched  me  to  the  heart.  In  the  name  of 
all  the  happiness  of  my  life,  I  implore  you  to  take  care  of 
your  health,  and  be  certain  of  one  thing — if  you  were  ill,  no 
matter  in  what  part  of  the  world,  or  what  might  be  my  own 
state  of  health,  I  should  instantly  go  to  you.  .  .  . 

If  you  mention  the  Comedie  Frangaise  to  the  Empress,  be 
sure  to  tell  her  that  it  was  not  I,  but  Maherault,  who  wrote 
to  you  about  the  consequences  of  her  good-nature  to  those 
actresses,  and  speak  only  of  the  message  he  sent  you  through 
me.  She  has  been  extremely  kind ;  I  lament  her  absence  too. 
Life  is  pleasant  in  her  company,  and  one's  heart  feels  satisfied. 
I  am  now  going  to  rejoin  my  poor  mother,  who  has  to  spend 
a  winter  with  two  very  sorrowful  and  tiresome  daughters. 
She  says,  in  one  of  her  letters,  that  she  will  never  forgive 
herself  for  having  brought  up  two  such  devoted  wives. 

I  inclose  the  memorandum  on  the  theatres.*  It  seems  to 
me  to  be  well  drawn  up.  Read  it,  Trwn  ami,  and  use  it  as 
soon  as  possible,  for  it  is  important  to  put  a  stop  to  the  daily 
increasing  confusion.  Adieu  ;  in  a  few  hours  the  Emperor's 
departure  will  have  taken  place,  and  I  shall  be  on  my  way  to 
Paris.  I  hope  you  will  write  to  me  on  the  Emperor's  arri- 
val, and  tell  me  how  he  receives  you.  I  am  going  to  em- 
brace your  children  and  find  comfort  in  their  society. 


LIII. 

TO   M.    DE   KEMUSAT,  AT   STEASBUEG. 

Paris,  Tuesday,  2  Vendemiaire,  Year  XIV. 
{September  SJi.,  1805.) 

I  AM  at  home  once  more  with  the  dear  children.     I  feel 
better  here  ;  everything  recalls  your  presence  and  seems  to 

*  This  was  a  memorandum  which  my  grandfather  had  requested  Desfauche- 
rets  to  send  him,  with  the  intention  of  laying  before  the  Emperor  bis  views  of 
the  reforms  required  in  that  department. 


AFFAIRS  IN  PARIS.  101 

draw  us  nearer  together.  I  left  St.  Cloud  yesterday  with  a 
heavy  heart,  and  I  could  see  my  own  feelings  reflected  in 
every  countenance.  1  could  not  restrain  my  tears  on  taking 
leave  of  the  Empress,  I  told  her  how  ardently  I  desired 
every  hles^ing  for  the  Emperor,  and  then  I  had  to  come  away 
in  tears.  Oh,  what  a  moment !  and  what  will  it  bring  forth 
in  the  future ! 

Paris  seems  to  me  rather  disturbed  just  now.  The  Pari- 
sians are  depressed  by  the  war  and  by  the  absence  of  those 
who  keep  up  luxury  and  expenditure.  The  conscription,  the 
levying  of  troops,  the  guard  of  honor,  and  the  National 
Guard  occupy  every  one's  thoughts,  as  you  may  imagine.  I 
saw  Louis  de  Vergennes  this  morning ;  he  is  delighted  with 
the  decree,*  because  he  gets  into  uniform  again.  Only  for 
his  children,  I  think  he  would  apply  to  reenter  the  army ; 
for  he  is  greatly  inclined  to  do  so,  I  assure  you.  He  is  a 
patriotic  Frenchman,  and  has  a  thoroughly  grateful  disposi- 
tion. 

Mme.  de  Yannoise  thanks  you  for  your  kindness  to  her 
son,  and  makes  the  following  request  on  his  behalf :  M.  de 
Yannoise  wrote  to  Constance,  and  told  her  to  say  to  her 
brother  that  he  should  ask  you  to  present  him  to  the  Emperor 
as  the  son  of  a  man  who,  by  virtue  of  his  military  rank,  had 
a  seat  in  the  King's  carriages.  His  mother  rightly  thinks  this 
an  insufficient  reason,  and  that  he  is  not  yet  of  rank  sufficient 
to  claim  such  an  honor.  But  that  she  may  not  seem  to  be 
acting  in  opposition  to  her  husband,  you  must  speak  to  the 
young  man  on  the  subject,  and  then  write  to  me,  and  I  will 
tell  Constance.     Do  not  forget. 

I  saw  a  courier  this  morning  who  told  me  you  were  in 
good  health.  May  you  remain  so ;  for  you  Avill  need  health 
for  your  travels.  I  think  tliat  perhaps  you  may  find  it  nec- 
essary to  make  a  circuit  in  this  direction,  unless  you  can  find 

*  This  first  trial  of  a  i^uard  of  honor  came  to  nothing.     Louis  de  Vergennes 
was  the  second  son  of  the  Minister  of  that  name. 


102  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  R^MUSAT. 

time  to  make  up  your  accounts  while  at  Strasburg.  We  are 
now  at  the  end  of  the  year,  and  Osmont  says  that  M.  de  Tal- 
leyrand is  quite  at  sea  about  the  accounts,  and  that  you  only 
can  give  him  the  information  he  requires. 

While  on  the  subject  of  money,  I  must  tell  you  that  I 
have  not  received  my  ten  thousand  francs.  I  mentioned  it 
to  the  Empress,  telling  her  how  straitened  were  my  means, 
and  what  a  deluge  of  bills  was  pouring  in  on  me ;  she  prom- 
ised she  would  mention  it,  but  has  not  done  so.  Mme.  de  la 
Rochefoucauld  *  has  written  to  M.  de  TallejTand,  in  her  own 
name  and  ours,  and  the  Grand  Chamberlain  answered  that  he 
would  speedily  settle  the  matter.  ISTevertheless,  it  is  not  set- 
tled ;  we  all  of  us  beg  that  you  will  attend  to  it,  and,  for  my 
own  part,  I  am  so  worried  that,  if  it  altogether  fails,  I  must 
sell  my  shawls  and  other  belongings  to  pay  for  my  Court 
dresses.f 

We  are  going  to  lead  a  very  quiet  life  with  two  or  three 
friends  that  you  know  of.  I  feel  that,  far  from  wishing  to 
increase  my  circle,  I  shall  rather  narrow  it,  so  as  to  avoid 
hearing  all  the  false  rumors  that  will  be  circulated,  and 
which,  although  against  reason,  one  tries  in  vain  to  dis- 
believe. I  have  abeady  been  kindly  informed  that  the  Rus- 
sians had  already  passed  through  Yienna,  and  have  left  that 
city.  I  imposed  silence  on  all,  and  then  I  stated  positively 
that  I  should  only  believe  what  I  read  in  the  "Moniteur." 
How  I  should  love  that  paper  if  it  would  give  me  some  news 
of  the  First  Chamberlain  !  While  speaking  of  the  First 
Chamberlain,  I  must  tell  him  that  I  believe  he  has  some  real 
friends  at  the  palace,  who  gladly  speak  well  of  him  ;  among 

*  Madame  Alexandre  de  la  Rochefoucauld  was  Lady  of  Honor  to  the  Em- 
press. 

f  The  salaries  of  the  Court  officials  were  paid  with  an  irregularity  and  delay 
that  are  almost  unintelligible  at  the  present  day.  The  alternations  between 
splendor  and  poverty  in  which  people  then  passed  their  lives  are  worthy  of 
note,  and,  although  I  have  suppressed  many  details  of  family  or  monetary 
affairs,  I  have  thought  it  advisable  to  retain  a  few  instances  of  this  curious  state 
of  things. 


PLANS  FOR  STUDY.  103 

others,  M.  de  Yiiy,  General  Caffarelli,  M.  de  Canisy,  who  is 
an  excellent  creature  for  all  his  madcap  ways,  and  some  more 
besides.  They  have  all  established  a  right  to  my  affection, 
and  M.  de  Caulaincourt,  to  whom  I  was  saying  this,  assured 
me  that  in  that  case  he  ought  to  be  in  the  front  rank  of  my 
friends ;  and  I  believe  him.  Our  service  is  all  arranged  for 
the  next  two  months.  The  Empress  settled  it  herself.  I 
shall  be  in  waiting  in  December  and  January,  the  same 
weeks,  I  believe,  as  Mme.  dc  Brignole,*  and  Mmes.  Ney  f 
and  Marescot  are  down  for  the  same  months  as  I.  By  that 
time  I  think  her  Majesty  will  have  returned  to  Paris,  where 
she  will  be  less  lonely  than  at  Strasburg  after  the  Emperor 
has  left  her.  If  not,  I  shall  be  obliged  to  give  up  my  turn 
of  service,  since  I  could  not  travel  so  far.  In  that  case,  you 
know  beforehand  what  will  be  my  occupations,  and  you  will 
probably  find  a  very  learned  wife  and  son  on  your  return,  for 
we  shall  study  very  hard.  I  shall  try  to  find  time  between 
Greek  and  Latin  to  read  a  little  history  with  Charles.  If  you 
approve,  he  shall  take  fencing-lessons  once  or  twice  a  week, 
so  as  to  learn  to  hold  himself  well.  I  could  afford  this  the 
more  easily,  because,  being  under  no  obligation  as  to  dress,  I 
could  save  the  money  to  pay  for  them.  Yet,  notwithstand- 
ing my  intended  economy,  I  see  plainly  that  our  necessary 
expenses  will  reach  a  high  amount,  and  that  we  are  living 
beyond  our  means.  The  war  is  raising  the  price  of  every- 
thing. Tradesmen  make  use  of  any  pretext  for  raising  their 
prices,  but  since  I  have  taken  to  housekeeping  I  have  never 
known  them  find  a  reason  for  lowering  them.  .  ,  . 

*  Mme.  dc  Brignole  was  a  Genoese.  She  is  the  mother  of  that  Brignole 
who  was  Sardinian  ambassador  in  France,  and  of  the  Duchesse  de  Dalberg. 

f  Mme.  Ney  was  Mile.  Augui6,  daughter  of  one  of  Marie  Antoinette's  dress- 
ers. 


104  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  R^MUSAT. 

JAY. 

TO   M.    DE   KEMU8AT,    AT    8TKASBURG. 

Paris,  ^  Vendemiaire,  Year  XIV. 
{September  26,  1805.) 

I  EECEivED  a  letter  from  you  yesterday,  by  wliicli  I  see 
how  busy  you  are,  for  it  is  very  short.  I  imagine  you  must 
have  become  more  and  more  pressed  with  work,  until  the 
arrival  of  their  Majesties  brought  it  to  a  climax.  I  presume 
they  are  now  at  Strasburg,  and  that  M.  de  Caulaincourt  has 
given  you  my  little  packet  of  letters.  You  will  tell  me  if 
they  have  been  of  any  use  to  you,  and  tell  me  especially  how 
you  yourself  are  getting  on.  I  am  really  in  a  state  of  sus- 
pense about  you  which  is  distressing.  M.  de  Talleyrand  told 
me  yesterday  that  he  thought  you  would  have  orders  to  ac- 
company the  Emperor,  and  that  1  must  send  you  plenty  of 
flannel.  But,  seriously,  are  you  in  want  of  any  winter  outfit, 
and  what  shall  I  send  you  ?  I  hope  you  have  been  rewarded 
for  all  the  trouble  you  have  had  at  Strasburg,  by  their  Majes- 
ties' approval  of  your  arrangements.  The  Empress  was  told 
beforehand  that  her  apartments  could  not  be  made  very 
comfortable,  but  she  was  so  anxious  to  accompany  the  Emper- 
or that  she  would  not  be  balked  by  any  personal  inconven- 
ience. Alas !  I  can  sympathize  with  her !  The  greatest  of 
evils  is  to  be  separated  from  those  we  love. 

Paris  is  profoundly  gloomy.  Everybody  remains  at  home 
in  a  state  of  anxiety  and  suspense ;  the  theatres  are  deserted  ; 
people  groan  and  await  in  silence  the  beginning  of  great 
events.  The  moderation  of  the  Emperor's  speech  is  greatly 
praised  ;  people  desire  his  success,  some  sincerely,  others  from 
interested  motives ;  for  he  bears  the  proud  title,  as  Abbe 
Morellet  used  to  say,  of  the  Necessary  Man. 

As  for  me,  I  am  going  to  live  in  great  solitude.  My  poor 
sister  comes  to  see  me  every  day  ;  she  is  full  of  anxiety  and 
weeps  continually.     Why  are  you  both  such  good  husbands, 


M.   RUM  FORD'S  COURTSHIP.  105 

and  are  not  we  veiy  foolish  that  we  can  not  exist  without  you  ? 
Alix  fancies  you  will  have  greater  facilities  than  herself  for 
forwarding  her  letters  to  M.  de  N^ansouty,  because  there  is 
no  post  to  Pirmasenz.*     Answer  me  about  this. 

Your  Grand  Chamberlain  wants  you  to  amuse  him  with 
a  play  at  Strasburg,  and  intends  to  speak  to  you  on  the  sub- 
ject. I  was  quite  gratified  at  his  reception  of  me.  I  had 
occasion  to  speak  to  him  about  something  that  he  will  tell  you 
and  that  I  wrote  to  you  by  M.  de  Caulaincourt.  It  relates 
to  Sobek's  mistress.f  I  wanted  him  to  quiet  her ;  he  had 
already  done  so.  He  said  he  should  tell  you  that  I  am  very 
fond  of  you,  and  I  replied  that  on  that  head  you  had  nothing 
further  to  learn.  He  spoke  in  his  usual  style  about  the  inner 
life  at  Court ;  saying  that  we  were  prudes,  and  that  when  we 
emancipated  ourselves,  we  should,  from  not  knowing  how  to 
be  coquettes,  be  something  worse.  I  thought  it  a  clever 
remark,  for  it  is  true  that  our  utter  want  of  occupation  and 
a  little  pedantry  are  more  dangerous  than  might  be  expected. 
But  you  may  feel  quite  easy  about  me,  for  I  am  never  unoc- 
cupied, and  my  boy  leaves  me  little  leisure  for  thinking  of 
anything  but  himself,  or,  in  other  words,  of  you. 

We  have  heard  from  our  friends  the  (^herons.:}:  They 
are  delighted  with  their  journey,  and  not  dissatisfied  with 
their  new  residence.  The  house  is  very  nice,  with  a  beautiful 
garden.  They  were  warmly  received,  and  this  consoled  them 
a  little  for  all  they  have  given  up.  The  husband  is  going  to 
try  to  be  of  use  in  his  district,  his  wife  will  be  feted  and 
courted,  and  both  will  be  happy.  The  Abbe  Morellet  is  re- 
signed to  their  absence ;  he  is  pleased  at  the  advantages  it 
seems  to  promise  for  his  niece.  M.  Rumf ord  has  come  back, 
and  the  house  in  the  Rue  d'Anjou  is  transformed  into  the 
isle  of  Cyprus,  according  to  mamma's  account.  All  is  per- 
fume and  enchantment.      The  new  Adonis  has  brought  a 

*  A  town  in  Bavaria. 

f  Sobek's  mistress  was  Mnie.  Devaines,  and  Sobck  was  a  little  dog. 

\  M.  Cheron  had  just  been  appointed  Prefect  of  Vicnne. 


106  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  R^MUSAT. 

bautboy-playcr  with  him  from  Germany ;  he  is  stationed  in 
a  little  hut,  and  while  he  draws  forth  the  most  ravishing 
sounds,  the  goddess  of  the  place,  lying  gracefully  extended 
on  a  sofa,  throws  tender  glances  at  the  object  of  all  her 
tboughts,  and  finds  a  new  fire  in  his  eyes  with  which  to 
enkindle  her  own.  People  wonder  if  they  are,  or  are  to  be, 
married.  No  one  can  tell,  but  they  seem  happy.  They  in- 
tend to  travel  in  France  all  the  winter,  w^hicli  puts  the  finish- 
ing stroke  to  Bertrand's  despair. 


LY. 


TO   M.    DE   EEMUSAT,    AT    STRASBUEG. 

Paris,  Saturday,  6  Vendemiaire,  Year  XIV, 
{September  28, 1805.) 

Whenever  I  hear  of  an  opportunity  of  writing,  I  feel 
that  I  must  not  neglect  it.  Herbault  is  just  setting  off,  and 
he  promises  to  deliver  this  letter  to  you.  I  inclose  a  little 
note  that  M.  Salembini  has  just  written  at  the  corner  of  my 
table.  It  is  an  account  of  the  difficulties  in  which  Osmont  * 
is  placed  by  your  absence.  It  seems  that  in  order  to  get  out 
of  them  he  takes  a  great  deal  upon  himself  which  perhaps 
you  will  not  approve.  If  this  be  so,  could  you  not  send  for 
him  to  Strasburg,  if  you  can  not  get  away  yourself  ? 

I  am  in  a  distressing  state  of  uncertainty.  I  am  anxiously 
waiting  to  hear  from  you  after  the  Emperor's  arrival  at  Stras- 
burg, and  I  can  not  tell  what  day  to  expect  a  letter.  No  doubt 
you  are  full  of  work ;  and  then,  are  you  to  accompany  the 
Emperor  ?  But  for  what  purpose  ?  Day  and  night  I  wear 
myself  out  in  conjecture !     Sorrowful  thoughts  from  which 

*  Osmont  had  to  discharge  part  of  the  duties  of  the  Grand  Chamberlain,  and 
consequently  the  business  of  the  Court  theatrical  performances  devolved  partly 
upon  him. 


THE  ACTORS  AGAIN.  107 

there  is  no  issue !  I  am  profoundly  sad.  Is  it  possible  that 
our  days  of  happiness  are  over  ? 

I  am  ashamed  that  you  should  see  my  weakness,  but 
everything  around  me  conduces  to  it.  There  is  great  con- 
sternation here,  and  it  is  increased  by  the  malevolent.  A 
run  on  the  bank  the  last  two  days  has  embarrassed  it,  and 
the  guard  was  forced  to  disperse  the  crowds  that  gathered 
round  the  doors.  The  conscription  irritates  peojjle,  and  the 
future  alarms  them ;  to  escape  from  it  all  I  am  obliged  to 
shut  myself  up  with  two  little  boys  that  you  know.  They 
are  so  happy,  so  peaceful,  so  ignorant  of  danger,  that  at  last, 
in  their  quiet  company,  I  become  calm  myself. 

As  you  may  imagine,  the  theatres  are  losers  by  the  state 
of  the  public  mind.  They  are  empty,  and  the  actors  grum- 
ble incessantly.  If  I  would  do  as  they  want  me,  I  should 
see  them  every  day,  to  listen  to  their  complaints.  Mile. 
Volnais  wrote  to  me  that  the  Empress's  promise  that  she 
should  act  by  turns  with  Mile.  Bourgoin  has  caused  her  a 
great  deal  of  annoyance,  and  that  she  wanted  to  tell  me 
about  it.  I  replied  that  I  could  not  help  it,  and  that  she  had 
better  write  to  you.  She  says  that  jou  advised  her  to  apply 
to  me.  Mile.  Contat  attacks  me  for  the  thousand  crowns 
that  she  says  you  promised  her.  Talma  is  very  grateful. 
He  is  much  attached  to  you,  and  wishes  you  could  return 
here,  because,  he  says,  everything  is  going  to  ruin,  and  no- 
body obeys  Maherault.  However,  "  Athalie  "  is  in  rehearsal ; 
he  knows  "  Manlius,"  and  is  learning  "  Catilina,"  and  he 
says  that  if  the  Comedie  chose,  they  might  draw  a  house,  in 
spite  of  the  dreariness  of  the  times.  .  .  . 


108  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  R&MUSAT. 


LVI. 

TO    M.    DE   KEMUSAT,    AT   STRASBURG. 

Paris,  Monday^  S  Vcndemiaire,  Year  XIV. 
{^September  30,  1805.) 

.  .  .  Our  life  hei'e  is  rather  dull,  as  you  may  imagine. 
All  our  friends  are  either  in  the  country  or  with  the  army, 
and  Paris  is  empty.  But  our  retired  life  pleases  me  better 
than  any  other  just  now,  for  I  should  have  to  pay  for  the 
pleasure  of  society  by  the  misery  of  hearing  all  the  evil 
rumors  that  are  disseminated,  and  they  are  legion.  I  am 
too  anxious  and  too  agitated  to  listen  to  them  with  the  indif- 
ference they  deserve.  In  fact,  I  must  admit  that  I  can  not 
help  quarreling  with  people  who  come  and  repeat  to  me  the 
absurdities  they  have  heard.  The  day  before  yesterday  I 
silenced  a  person  *  who,  in  my  own  house,  was  finding  fault 
with  everything  and  everybody.  You  would  have  been  as- 
tonished— you,  who  know  that  I  do  not  like  to  put  myself 
forward  when  the  company  is  at  all  numerous — at  the  firm- 
ness and  the  comparative  calmness  with  which  I  said  I  was 
surprised  that  any  one  should  select  my  house,  at  such  a  time 
as  the  present,  for  the  repetition  of  rumors  which  must  be 
alarming  to  everybody.  You  will  guess  pretty  well  to  whom 
I  thus  addressed  myself,  when  I  tell  you  it  was  to  that  hus- 
band of  one  of  our  dearest  friends,  of  whom  you  often  say 
he  has  the  spirit  sic  autem  contra.     He  was  rather  surprised 

*  This  was  M.  de  Mezy,  whom  my  grandfather  does  not  name  on  account  of 
the  insecurity  of  the  post.  This  continual  apprehension  explains  the  reticence, 
and  many  turns  of  expression,  throughout  the  whole  correspondence.  M.  de 
Mezy  was  a  well-informed  man,  who  had  acquired  a  stock  of  ideas  in  England 
which  had  made  him  a  Liberal,  although  he  did  not  always  act  like  one  under 
the  Restoration.  He  had  been  at  school  at  Juilly,  but  was  younger  than  my 
grandfather.  He  married  Mile.  Vcron  and  died  a  peer  of  France.  His  son, 
who  was  only  known  to  my  generation  in  his  latter  days,  was  an  amiable,  lively, 
and  well-informed  man  of  the  world. 


MONEY  TROUBLES.  109 

at  my  manner,  but  held  his  peace,  and  mj  mother  thinks  I 
did  right. 

Another  trouble  to  this  good  city  of  Paris  is  the  prevail- 
ing scarcity  of  money.  Bank  payments  were  suddenly  inter- 
rupted, general  alarm  ensued,  and  there  are  now  such  crowds 
waiting  their  turn,  that  a  guard  is  necessary  to  keep  order. 
This  measure,  which  makes  creditors  more  than  ever  press- 
ing, is  inconveniencing  me  very  much.  By-the-way,  M. 
Esteve  *  is  now  with  you ;  he  told  me  again,  before  leaving 
Paris,  that  we  could  receive  our  month's  pay  by  sending  an 
application  with  our  own  signature  to  hira,  yet  when  Alix 
wrote  to  his  cashier,  he  replied  that  an  authorization  from 
M.  de  Nansouty  would  be  necessary.  A  note  from  M. 
Esteve  to  his  cashier  would  be  sufficient ;  please  ask  him  for 
it,  for  my  sister  and  myself. 

I  see  two  persons  every  day  who  are  so  wretched  that  I 
can  no  longer  complain  when  I  think  of  them.  One  is  our 
cousin  Vannoise,  who  bemoans  by  turns  her  poverty,  her 
daughter,  and  her  sons.  The  other  is  poor  Mme.  de  Grasse. 
Her  son  is  very  ill,  and  given  over  by  the  doctors.f  She 
nurses  him  night  and  day ;  her  means  are  exhausted,  and  her 
courage  is  failing.  If  you  could  possibly  obtain  some  help 
for  her  from  the  Empress,  you  might  tell  Deschamps  to  write 
and  inform  Mme.  de  la  Rochefoucauld  of  this.  You  would 
be  doing  a  truly  kind  action.  To  add  to  the  troubles  of  the 
poor  woman,  it  seems  to  me  that  she  is  not  on  good  terras 
with  her  hosts,  and  feels  distressed  at  being  indebted  to 
them  ;  when  peoi)le  bestow  favors  they  can  not  be  too  mind- 
ful always  to  seek  forgiveness,  so  to  speak,  for  the  services 
they  have  rendered.  I  went  once  to  visit  the  lady  in  the 
house  opposite  theirs.     She  is  becoming  more  calm.;}:     She 

*  M.  Esteve  wa3  Treasurer-General  to  the  Crown. 

f  Gustavo  (Ic  Grasse  cheated  the  doctors,  for  he  did  not  die  until  1858,  aged 
sixtj'-scven,  after  a  very  active  and  busy  life.  He  suffered,  however,  from  an 
affection  of  the  liver. 

\  ^Ime.  de  Grasse  lived  in  the  Rue  Royalc,  at  her  cousin's,  Mme.  de  Sainte- 
Margucrite,  opi)osite  Mme.  Devaines's. 


110  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  R&MUSAT. 

was,  at  first,  for  writing  tremendous  letters,  burning  her  fine 
clothes,  and  renouncing  the  world.  "  I  shall  retire  to  a  cot- 
tage," she  wrote  to  me.  "  No,"  I  answered,  "  you  will  not ; 
you  will  stay  by  your  fireside  and  receive  your  friends." 
Her  anger  is  now  appeased,  and  she  is  quite  determined  to 
preserve  a  strict  silence,  which  will  last  as  long  as  may  be. 
I  seldom  go  to  her,  for,  whatever  people  say,  she  is  no  friend 
of  mine. 

Josephine  and  her  husband  start  for  l^ice  to-morrow. 
They  are  going  to  spend  the  winter  there  on  account  of 
their  child,  who  is  in  a  sad  state.*  Our  friends  the  Cherons 
are  settled  and  in  the  midst  of  all  the  business  and  bother  of 
provincial  etiquette.  Korvins  is  in  despair,  and  calls  upon 
you.  If  you  can  not  help  him  he  will  die  of  suppressed  am- 
bition. He  often  comes  to  see  me,  more  for  want  of  some- 
thing to  do  than  from  inclination ;  certainly  not  for  my 
pleasure.  What  else  can  I  tell  you  ?  Abbe  Morellet  is  ag- 
ing and  sleeps  a  good  deal.  Bertrand  sighs,  Mme.  Lavoisier 
is  off  to  Provence,  my  sister  weeps,  and  my  mother  rails 
against  conjugal  affection.  It  is  not  her  fault  that  we  do 
not  lead  a  gayer  life.  She  says  it  would  make  us  much 
pleasanter  if  we  did.  She  is  always  pleasant,  her  good  spir- 
its are  inexhaustible  ;  without  her  I  should  laugh  but  sel- 
dom. 


LVII. 

TO    M.    DE   KEMUSAT,    AT    STEASBTTEG. 

Paris,  10  Vendemiairc,  Year  XIV. 
{October  2,  1805) 

I  DO  not  hear  from  you,  man  ami.  I  grieve,  but  I  do 
not  complain,  for  I  know  that  since  his  Majesty's  arrival  you 
have  little  leisure ;  so  I  will  be  patient,  if  possible.     You  can 

*  Josephine  is   Mme.  de  M6zy.     The  child  mentioned  in  the  letter   died 
young.     He  was  not  the  Mezy  whom  we  knew. 


FINANCIAL  DEPRESSION.  Ill 

understand,  however,  tluat  I  aui  doubly  anxious,  for  1  am  in 
a  painful  state  of  ignorance  as  to  what  will  become  of  you. 
Are  you  to  follow  the  Emperor  immediately  ?  Where  am  I 
to  address  our  letters  ?  Are  you  still  at  Strasburg  ?  These 
questions  are  always  before  me,  and  I  can  not  decide  one  of 
them.  So  soon  as  you  are  able,  pray  write  me  one  word.  I 
really  need  it.  As  for  me,  who  am  always  writing  to  you,  I 
liave  no  news  to  tell.  We  are  all  in  good  health,  grand- 
mother, mother,  and  children  ;  we  are  continually  talking  of 
you,  of  this  dreadful  war,  and  of  the  separations  it  entails. 
My  mother  and  I  begin  the  day  by  .reading  the  Moniteur  at 
breakfast,  and  following  the  march  of  our  troops  and  of  those 
wretched  Austrians  on  the  map.  We  have  already  looked  a 
hundred  times  over  at  Meiningen  and  Stockach.*  Then 
Alix  makes  her  appearance,  and,  with  a  sigh,  looks  for  Pir- 
masenz,  although  her  husband  may  no  longer  be  there.  We 
all  hope  and  pray  for  the  success  of  our  master,  and  I  con- 
fess that  I  am  agitated  when  I  think  he  is  going  to  risk  a 
life  on  which  the  happiness  of  a  generation  depends.  How 
I  regret  that  my  ill  health  forbade  me  to  accompany  the 
Empress !  I  am  sure  that  you  at  Strasburg,  close  to  the 
troops  and  in  the  midst  of  the  dangers  they  are  about  to  con- 
front, are  less  alarmed  and  anxious  than  we.  No  efforts  are 
wanting  here  to  disturb  the  public  peace,  and  the  sudden 
scarcity  of  silver  is  a  capital  opportunity  for  arousing  alarm, 
and  has  not  been  overlooked  by  the  evil-disposed.  A  great 
crowd  of  people  wait  their  turn  at  the  bank,  and  this  causes 
few  payments,  and  of  comparatively  small  sums,  to  be  made. 
There  is  a  stop  to  all  business ;  creditors  press  on  every  side 
whom  it  is  impossible  to  satisfy,  and  yet  it  is  said  that,  with 
a  little  frank  good-will,  all  this  confusion  would  soon  come 
to,  an  end. 

This  is  the  latest  news  I  can  give  you.     Do  not  imagine, 
however,  that  the  Parisians  restrict  themselves  to  this  one 

*  Meiningen  is  the  capital  of  the  duchy  of  Saxc-Meiningen,  ten  leagues  from 
Gotha.     Stockaeh  is  near  Constance,  in  the  gvand-duchy  of  Baden. 


112  LETTERS   OF  MADAME  DE  REMUSAT. 

subject  for  recreation.  Oh !  we  know  how  to  vary  our  amuse- 
ments, and  after  spending  the  morning  in  discussing,  rightly 
or  wrongly,  the  causes  of  this  scarcity  of  money,  the  war, 
and  the  political  system  of  Europe,  we  discourse  with  equal 
warmth  on  the  "  Hullah  de  Samarcande,"  *  whicli  has  just 
been  produced  at  Feydeau,  or  on  Martin's  f  sudden  cold,  for 
which  M.  de  Talleyrand  sent  him  to  prison  for  eighteen 
hours,  and  we  retire  to  rest  quite  satisfied  with  our  judgment 
on  everything,  and  without  troubling  ourselves  to  consider 
whether  it  has  been  a  reasonable  one.  These  Parisians  of 
ours,  who,  in  my  opinion,  are  the  most  agreeable  rather  than 
the  most  estimable  part  of  the  nation,  have,  however,  always 
been  the  same.  You  know  that  in  my  hours  of  idleness  I 
have  taken  up  the  history  of  France,  and  I  find  them  always 
the  same  at  all  the  different  epochs  of  which  I  have  read : 
adventurous,  thoughtless,  often  ungrateful,  never  taking  any 
trouble  themselves,  and  expecting  everything  to  be  done  for 
them.  I  have  just  finished  the  history  of  the  League,  and 
have  made  myself  ready  to  argue  either  for  or  against  "  Les 
Etats  de  Blois,"  if  it  is  acted  this  winter.  .  .   . 

Just  as  I  was  closing  this  letter,  I  received  yours,  which 
has  relieved  my  anxiety.  Cesar  de  Choiseul  has  offered  to 
convey  my  little  packet,  and,  as  he  is  in  haste,  I  have  only 
time  for  a  few  words.  I  shall  not  write  again  until  I  have 
another  letter  from  you.  But  if  you  are  to  remain  at  Stras- 
burg,  could  you  not  take  a  trip  to  Paris  ?  I  say  nothing 
about  myself,  but  your  presence  is  needed  at  the  end  of  the 
year,  and  especially  at  the  theatre.      Maherault  is   in   the 

*  "  Gulistan  ou  le  Hullah  de  Samarcande  "  is  an  opera,  by  Etienne  and  Da- 
layrac.  It  was  brought  out  at  the  Opera  Comique,  on  8  Vendemiaire,Year  XIV. 
(September  30,  1805).  It  appears  that  a  Hullah  or  Hulla  is  a  man  who  mar- 
ries, for  one  day  only,  a  divorced  wife,  in  order  to  enable  the  first  husband,  ac- 
cording to  Turkish  law,  to  take  her  back.  Another  operetta  by  M.  Lecocq  has 
recently  been  composed  on  this  delicate  subject,  "La  Jolic  Persane." 

f  Martin,  a  grandson  of  the  inventor  of  the  Martin  blacking,  was  born  in 
1768  and  died  in  1837.  He  and  EUeviou  were  celebrated  singers  at  the  Opera 
Comique  under  the  Empire. 


CONFIDENCE  IN  THE   TROOPS.  118 

greatest  difficulties  about  the  rent  and  the  retiring  pensions  ; 
moreover,  his  authority  is  set  at  naught,  and  nothing  goes 
weH. 


LVIII. 

TO   M.    DE    REMUSAT,    AT    STRASBUEO. 

Paris,  15  Vendemiaire,  Year  XIV. 
{October  7, 1805.) 

.  .  .  The  confidence  which  you  tell  me  is  felt  in  the 
troops  is  quite  shared  here,  even  by  the  people  who  gener- 
ally share  in  nothing,  and  who,  as  you  know,  exist  in  Paris 
in  large  numbers.  Whatever  private  opinions  people  may 
have,  no  one  doubts  of  victory,  and  this  widespread  feeling 
is  surely  the  most  flattering  and  the  truest  homage  that  can 
be  paid  to  our  soldiers  and  their  leader.  I  can  understand 
your  admiration,  and  your  thoughts  at  the  sight  of  those  fine 
troops  marching  at  once  to  glory  and  to  death.  For  my  own 
part,  if,  like  you,  I  beheld  armies  ready  to  meet  in  the  field, 
my  first  thought  would  be  for  the  poor  mothers  and  wives, 
-who  will  have  to  pay  for  all  this  glory  with  their  tears,  and 
who  must  undoubtedly  shed  as  many  over  victory  as  over  de- 
feat. I  see  clearly  that  I  should  never  make  a  good  niler,  for 
feeling  is  too  much  mingled  with  all  I  think  and  do,  and  with 
these  fine  sentiments,  I  should  let  my  country  l)e  invaded  and 
my  states  disturbed. 

You  say  you  are  dull  at  Strasburg?  You  would  be  the 
same  in  Paris ;  for  it  is  horribly  dull  just  now,  and  so  empty 
of  news  and  full  of  ill-nature,  that  to  live  without  too  much 
vexation  and  quarreling,  one  must  do  as  I  do — confine  one's 
self  to  a  very  narrow  circle,  and  shut  one's  door  on  all  the 
idlers  of  this  great  city,  who  imagine  they  are  increasing 
their  own  importance  when  they  are  spreading  bad  news. 
We  are  told  here  that  the  Empress  is  likely  to  return  to  us, 
and  perhaps,  unless   better  advised,  she  would  do  well  to 


114  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  R^MUSAT. 

spend  the  winter  here,  and  revive  in  some  degree  much  that 
is  languishing  by  reason  of  the  war.  I  will  write  to  her, 
since  you  tell  me  to  do  so.  The  truth  is,  that  I  did  not  write 
for  fear  of  being  tiresome ;  I  am  so  completely  ignorant  of 
anything  that  could  amuse  her.  It  is  your  duty,  gentlemen, 
to  enliven  and  entertain  her.  Notwithstanding  your  mod- 
esty, you  are  quite  sufficiently  agreeable  to  amuse  her  if  you 
like,  and  I  should  be  much  inclined  to  scold  you  for  your 
shjTiess,  only  that  while  avowing  it  you  use  so  many  kind 
and  loving  words,  that  I  must  tell  you  they  all  went  straight 
to  my  heart,  and  are  graven  there ;  and  that  your  devoted 
affection,  of  which  I  am  constantly  receiving  the  most  touch- 
ing proofs,  will  always  be  the  true  happiness  of  my  life. 


LIX. 

.  TO  M.    DE   EEMUSAT,   AT    STEASBURG. 

Paris,  IS  Vcndemiaire,  Year  XIV. 
{October  10,  1805.) 

.  .  .  3fon  cher  ami,  how  dull  and  unoccupied  we  are  in 
this  horrid  Paris  of  ours !  Pray  tell  M.  de  Talleyrand  that 
it  is  really  pitiable.  There  is  not  even  the  least  bit  of  gossip ! 
In  fact,  our  dullness  ecpials  our  wisdom.  I  don't  quite  know 
which  is  the  cause  and  which  the  effect,  but  I  do  know  I  am 
horribly  dull.  The  emptiness  of  this  great  city  is  really  re- 
markable ;  the  theatres  do  not  draw,  and  I  scarcely  ever  go 
to  them,  except,  however,  to  the  Bouffons,  who  are  improv- 
ing every  day  and  drawing  large  audiences.  I  heard  Fer- 
tendis  *  there  last  Monday  for  the  first  time.  She  has  be- 
come popular ;  her  voice,  although  rather  thick,  is  effective, 
and  she  sings  with  expression.     She  pronounces  Italian  so 

*  Mme.  Fertendis  was  an  Italian  contralto  who  came  out  in  Paris  in  "  La 
Capriciosa  pentita."  She  was  the  wife  of  an  excellent  musician,  well  known  as 
a  performer  on  the  English  horn,  which  was  at  that  time  a  new  instrument. 


PRINCESS  LOUIS.  115 

well  as  to  make  even  recitatives  delightful.  She  looks  well 
on  the  stage,  and  is  greatlj  applauded.  Barilli  also  is  much 
liked.  They  acted  together  in  an  opera  called  "La  Melo- 
manie."  It  is  pretty  and  well  put  on  the  stage ;  everybody 
enjoyed  it ;  I  am  going  to  hear  it  again  this  evening.  I  hear 
it  is  impossible  to  persuade  the  two  i^rime  donne  that  they 
would  do  well  to  act  together,  as  each  declines  to  play  any 
but  the  principal  parts.  Your  authority  seems  to  be  needed 
in  this  matter. 

Halma  continues  to  be  quite  satisfied  with  your  son  ;  and 
tells  me  that  he  has  plenty  of  ability,  but  is  rather  lazy.  I 
am  contending  with  this  fault,  and  I  make  him  work  with 
more  steadiness.  Tell  him  to  be  more  industrious.  In  other 
respects  he  is  most  amiable ;  his  health  is  excellent ;  he  is 
even  growing  fat.  His  grandmother  is  untiringly  kind  to 
liim,  and  teaches  him  to  act  proverbs  with  her,  while  I  con- 
stitute the  audience. 


LX. 

TO   M.    DE   KEMUSAT,    AT    STRASBURG. 

Paris,  20  Vendhnialre,  Year  XIV. 
{October  12,  1S05.) 

...  I  HAVE  seen  Princess  Louis,  who  is  quite  well,  and 
her  children  also.  She  is  dreadfully  tired  of  receiving  two 
hundred  persons  every  Monday,  but  the  company  do  not  sus- 
pect it ;  her  manners  are  so  gracious  and  pleasing.  You 
nnist  tell  this  to  the  Empress,  when  speaking  of  me,  as  you 
do  sometimes.  I  am  really  afraid  of  writing  to  her ;  I  feel 
so  cross  and  stupid.  You  only,  moti  ami,  can  put  up  with 
my  verbiage,  and  notwithstanding  your  indulgence  and  nat- 
ural interest  in  my  letters,  I  fear  that  sometimes  you  must 
find  in  them  a  wearisome  iteration,  llow  can  I  help  it  ?  I 
have  a  liberty  that  I  do  not  want,  and  each  succeeding  day 


116  LETTERS   OF  MADAME  DE  REMUSAT. 

brings  me  the  same  occupations  and  the  same  thoughts,  at 
the  same  hours.  I  read  a  great  deal.  I  am  now  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  "  Essai  snr  les  Ma3urs,"  which  I  like  in  spite  of  all 
my  prejudices.  I  intend,  now  that  I  have  so  much  leisure, 
to  go  through  the  whole  of  Yoltaire,  so  as  to  know,  once  for 
all,  what  to  think  about  him,  and  although  I  have  no  inclina- 
tion to  let  myself  be  fascinated,  yet  I  begin  to  find,  in  spite  of 
myself,  that  he  is  more  often  in  the  right  than  I  could  wish. 


LXI. 

TO   M.    DE   REMUSAT,    AT   STKASBURG. 

Paris,  22  Vendemiaire,  Year  XIV. 
{October  14,  1805.) 

Moil  ami.,  what  delightful  news !  *  and  how  we  all  thank 
you  for  writing  to  us  at  once !  I  received  your  letter  last 
night  at  eleven  o'clock.  In  another  minute  I  was  off.  I 
reach  Alix's  house,  I  read  it  to  her,  she  bursts  into  tears,  I 
weep  also,  and  all  the  pain  of  absence  is  forgotten.  The 
booming  of  cannon  proclaimed  the  good  news  to  Paris  this 
morning ;  it  has  produced  a  great  effect.  Strangers  interro- 
gate and  congratulate  each  other  in  the  streets ;  in  short,  as 
I  have  written  to  the  Empress,  for  once  the  Parisians  are 
Frenchmen.  I  have  written  twenty  notes  already  this  morn- 
ing, and  received  visits  of  congratulation.  Prince  Louis  sent 
for  Alix  in  order  to  tell  her  how  well  pleased  the  Emperor  is 
with  her  luisband,  and  both  the  Prince  and  Princess  treated 
her  with  the  greatest  kindness.  This  was  all  the  more  con- 
soling to  my  poor  sister,  as  she  has  had  no  news  of  her  hus- 
band for  a  long  time  past.  She  fears  that  both  his  letters 
and  hers  miscarry,  and  asks  you  to  forward  the  one  I  inclose, 
if  you  meet  with  a  good  opportunity.     But  what  a  splendid 

*  Either  the  battle  of  Wertingen,  gained  on   IT  Vendemiaire,  or  Marshal 
Ney's  defeat  of  the  Archduke  Ferdinand  on  the  16th. 


WAITING  FOR  NEWS.  117 

victory !  How  proud  one  feels  at  being  French  !  I  could 
not  sleep  for  joy.  Perhaps  you  know  of  other  victories  by 
this  time,  and  while  we  are  rejoicing  over  this  first  one,  you 
have  already  forgotten  it  in  a  second.  May  Heaven  still 
protect  our  brave  anny  and  its  glorious  leader !  We  wanted 
a  victory  here,  for  our  wretched  Parisians  were  beginning  to 
grumble.  The  solitude  of  Paris,  the  state  of  torpor  in  which 
all  business  is  plunged,  and  the  scarcity  of  money  that  is  still 
prevailing,  gave  fine  opportunities  of  fault-finding  to  the  ill- 
natured,  while  our  foolish  idlers  believed  everything  that 
they  were  told.  I  was  wondering  to  myself  this  morning 
why  there  is  so  little  national  spirit  in  the  nation  and  yet 
such  unity  of  action  and  of  feeling  in  the  army.  It  seems 
to  me  that  it  must  be  a  sentiment  of  honor  that  makes  the 
difference,  and  that  honor  takes  the  place  of  public  spirit 
among  individuals  who  in  ordinary  times  are  too  happy,  too 
rich,  or  too  careless  to  interest  themselves  in  anything  out- 
side their  own  particular  horizon. 


LXII. 

TO   M.    DE   REMUSAT,    AT    STEASBUEG. 

Paris,  84.  Vendemiaire,  Year  XIV. 
(.October  16,  1805.) 

We  arc  waiting  impatiently  for  news.  Our  triumphant 
beginning  will,  no  doubt,  be  succeeded  by  still  more  brilliant 
victories,  and  I  rely  upon  you  to  inform  me  of  them  so  soon 
as  you  know  of  them  yourself.  But,  amid  all  this,  what  is 
liappening  to  you  ?  M.  de  Chabrol,  whom  I  met  yesterdav 
at  the  Archchancellor's,  told  me  that,  at  the  time  he  left 
Strasburg,  several  of  the  Chamberlains  were  preparing  to 
follow  the  Emperor.  Were  you  one  of  them  ?  If  you  are 
likely  to  be  at  a  still  greater  distance,  remember  that  you 
must  warn  me  in  time,  on  account  of  my  letters,  and  in  order 


118  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  REMUSAT. 

that  I  maj  send  you  what  you  require ;  your  coat,  for  in- 
stance, if  it  does  not  come  before  you  leave  Strasburg.  I 
know  not  whether  to  wish  for  or  to  dread  your  further  jour- 
ney. There  is  something  agreeable  to  me  in  the  knowledge 
that  you  are  still  in  France,  but  I  tremble  at  the  thought  of 
those  gloomy  German  forests,  and  almost  regret  that  you  did 
not  accompany  the  Emperor  on  his  journey. 

All  these  feelings  make  life  melancholy  and  the  days 
long  and  dreary.  The  coming  winter  seems  shrouded  in  a 
somber  veil  when  I  reflect  that  it  must  be  passed'  far  away 
from  you,  and  the  thought  brings  tears  to  my  eyes.  The 
newspapers  announce  that  the  Empress  will  spend  the  winter 
at  Strasburg.  Do  you  think  that  is  her  intention?  The 
general  opinion  here  seems  to  be  that  she  ought  to  come 
back  to  Paris,  where  her  presence  is  really  required.  Every- 
thing seems  dead  ;  there  is  no  trade,  and  discontent  prevails 
everywhere ;  people  shut  themselves  up  in  their  homes ; 
there  is  no  expenditure,  no  luxury,  and  every  house  has  be- 
come, like  mine,  a  sort  of  castle  in  which  the  owners  live  in 
solitude.  To  complete  the  picture,  the  weather  is  frightful, 
with  such  incessant  rain  we  might  easily  believe  ourselves  to 
be  in  tlie  month  of  December.  The  theatres,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  the  minor  ones,  are  absolutely  deserted.  Your 
poor  Comedie  exhaust  themselves  in  vain;  they  play  to 
empty  houses.  I  went  yesterday  to  the  "  Festin  de  Pierre," 
admirably  acted  by  Dugazon  and  Fleury ;  there  were  not 
fifty  persons  in  the  pit.  Fleury  asked  for  an  interview  with 
me,  and  I  have  appointed  to-morrow.  In  those  letters  of 
mine  that  went  astray,  I  asked  you  for  an  answer  for  Mile. 
Contat. 

.  Mamma  is  continually  begging  me  to  tell  you  that  she 
never  thinks  of  you  now ;  and  I,  mon  ami^  I  do  nothing  else 
at  every  instant  of  the  day,  and  each  day  I  love  you  more. 
What  happiness  if  I  could  tell  you  so  with  my  own  lips ! 


TEE  GOM^DIE  ONCE  MORE.  119 


LXIII. 

TO   M.    DE   REMCSAT,    AT   STKASBURG. 

Wednesday,  24  Vendemialre,  Year  XIV. 
{October  16,  1S05.) 

Now  that  I  have  attended  to  all  your  commissions  and 
that  I  have  leisure  to  write,  and  have  besides  the  certainty 
that  my  letter  will  reach  you,  I  must  speak  to  you  about 
your  actors  of  the  Comedie  Frangaise,  whom  you  are  forget- 
ting, but  to  whom  you  might  write  as  you  are  so  far  away. 
I  suspect  that  Maherault  does  not  tell  you  of  all  the  existing 
anarchy,  because  his  ill  health  has  greatly  weakened  him.  I 
saw  Fleury  this  morning.  He  has  a  petition,  of  which  I 
will  speak  presently,  to  present  to  you.  We  had  a  long  con- 
versation. He  much  deplores  the  present  condition  of  the 
theatre,  which  he  tells  me  is  one  of  complete  disorder. 
Everybody  is  master,  and  no  rules  are  observed.  The  actors 
are  all  away  in  the  country ;  consequently  the  doubles  have 
to  act,  and  the  receipts  are  nil.  Mile.  Raucourt  has  not 
acted  once ;  while  Mile.  Fleury*  insists  on  always  acting,  and 
people  will  not  pay  to  see  her.  On  Monday  they  played 
"  Tancrede  "  for  the  first  time  since  the  dehut  of  our  new 
actresses.  They  hoped  to  draw  a  good  house.  But  Mile. 
Fleury,  despite  her  age  and  appearance,  took  the  part  of 
Amenaide.  Her  very  name  scared  people  away,  and  not  a 
single  person  went  except  myself.  She  looked  so  old,  so 
ugly,  and  acted  so  badly,  that  I  laughed  heartily.  Fleury 
says  that  now,  at  the  close  of  the  year,  there  are  several 
actors  who  should  be  compelled  to  take  their  retiring  pen- 
sion, and  thus  clear  the  way  for  others.  He  says  that  Mile. 
Fleury  is  one  of  these  ;  that  she  is  worn  out,  and  embarrasses 

*  Mile.  Fleury  was  not  in  any  way  related  to  Fleury.  She  was  married  to 
M.  Cheffontaine.  She  had  made  her  first  appearance  on  the  sta^je  in  1791 ;  she 
retired  in  ISOV,  and  died  in  1818.  She  was  considered  clever.  Monvel  re- 
ceived his  retiring  pension  shortly  after.  He  died  at  the  age  of  sixty-seven,  in 
1812. 


120  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  R^MUSAT. 

him  in  his  distribution  of  parts,  and  that  it  would  be  very 
kind  of  you  to  get  rid  of  her,  also  of  Monvel  and  some 
others.  Could  you  not  write — not  to  Maherault,  who  would 
not  show  your  letter — but  to  the  committee,  and  say  that 
you  are  dissatisfied,  and  that,  as  your  projected  reforms  in 
the  management  of  the  Comedie  are  stopped  by  your  ab- 
sence, you  expect  that  at  least  the  actors  will  be  more  than 
ever  zealous ;  that  those  who  show  themselves  most  deserv- 
ing will  be  rewarded,  and  that  every  personal  interest  ought 
to  yield  before  the  necessity  of  attracting  tlie  public  by  well- 
acted  plays  ?  These  are  only  suggestions,  but  it  should  be  a 
forcible  letter.  If  you  prefer,  you  might  address  it  to  Fleu- 
ry,  and  I  would  undertake  to  have  it  conveyed  to  him.  I 
am  the  more  vexed  that  you  did  not  put  an  end  to  Mahe- 
rault's  affair  before  you  left  Paris.  Could  you  not  write 
what  you  shrink  from  saying  to  him  ?  I  think  you  would 
be  very  well  satisfied  with  Campenon,  and  that,  besides,  he 
would  be  anxious  to  make  a  good  beginning  and  do  his  best 
for  the  theatre,  which  is  not  likely  to  flourish  this  winter.  I 
have  dwelt  too  long,  perhaps,  on  this  subject.  But  I  am  an- 
noyed by  the  sharp  comments  that  are  made  everywhere,  and 
even  in  the  newspapers,  about  the  mismanagement  of  the 
theatre. 

To  return  to  Fleury.  He  is  in  great  need  of  help  ;  you 
had  promised  to  make  up  for  the  leave  that  he  missed  tak- 
ing, and  that  he  will  be  obliged  to  claim  if  you  can  grant 
him  no  money.  His  son*  has  come  back  badly  wounded 
from  the  war,  and  he  says  that  now,  for  the  first  time,  he 
finds  himself  in  urgent  need.  Pray  do  not  overlook  this  re- 
quest. I  am  much  interested  in  him,  and  so  is  Alix,  as  you 
know. 

Thursday  Morning,  S5th. 

The  cannon  proclaim  a  fresh  victory,  of  which  the 
"  Moniteur "  gives  us  the  particulars.     This  time  it  is  Mar- 

*  Fleury's  son  called  himself  Benard,  his  father's  real  name.     lie  was  a 
sailor,  and  became  an  admiral. 


REBELLION  IN  TEE  OPl^RA.  121 

shal  Ney,  and  I  see  that  that  poor  fellow  Lacuee  *  has  been 
killed.  I  am  very  sorry,  and  sorry  also  for  a  poor  mother 
who  is  here,  and  who  begs  you  for  pity's  sake  to  find  out,  if 
possible,  the  fate  of  her  son.  I  speak  of  Mme,  Fezensac.f 
M.  de  Nansouty  took  an  interest  in  the  young  man,  so  he 
may  perhaps  know  if  anything  has  happened  to  him,  and  by 
writing  to  him  at  once,  you  might  obtain  an  answer  so  as  to 
give  us  news  of  both.  Alix  has  not  heard  from  her  hus- 
band, and  is  in  a  most  pitiable  state.  Write  to  my  brother- 
in-law,  cher  amiy  and  tell  him  to  address  his  letters  to  you ; 
be  our  refuge,  in  fact,  and  watch  over  us,  for  we  are  troubled 
and  anxious.  Keep  us  informed  of  everything,  for  all  your 
news  will  be  precious. 

Before  closing  my  parcel,  I  must  return  to  the  subject  of 
theatres,  and  tell  you  that  the  Minister  of  Police  has  decreed 
that  no  theatre  becoming  bankrupt  shall  open  again,  nor 
shall  any  new  ones  be  licensed.  The  Opera  company  is  in 
open  rebellion  against  M.  de  Lu^ay.  Eolland,  Nourrit,  and 
Mme.  Branchu  X  have  sent  in  tlieir  resignation,  and  his  au- 
thority is  openly  defied  by  the  rest.  Pay  some  attention,  I 
beg  of  you,  to  your  own  theatre ;  now  is  the  time,  it  seems 
to  me,  that  it  should  show  better  management  than  the 
others. 

*  Colonel  Lacuee,  aide-de-camp  to  the  Emperor,  was  killed  at  the  battle  of 
Elehingen  on  22  Vendemiaire. 

f  Mme.  de  Montcsquiou-Fezensac  was  Mme.  de  Vintimille's  sister.  Her  son 
Aimery  was  that  Duke  of  Fezensac  who  wrote  his  Memoirs  and  died  in  1860. 

\  Rolland  the  actor  was  Holland  de  Courbonne,  who  died  at  a  very  advanced 
age,  and  whose  wife  held  a  brilliant  salon  in  Paris,  at  Rue  d'Anjou.  Xourrit 
was  the  father  of  Adolphe  Nourrit,  who  was  so  celebrated  a  singer  at  the  Opera, 
and  who  committed  suicide  at  Naples  in  1837.  Mme.  Branchu  (Mile.  JIaillard) 
had  made  her  first  appearance  at  the  Op6ra  in  1782.  She  was  more  admired 
for  dramatic  expression  than  for  her  voice. 


0 


122  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  EEMU8AT. 


LXIV. 

TO   M.  DE   KEMUSAT,   AT    STKASBURG. 

Paris,  25  Vendemiaire,  Year  XIV. 
(Odobci- 17,  1S05.) 

.  .  .  We  are  passing  our  time  here,  thanks  to  our  brill- 
iant military  triumphs,  in  paying  visits  of  congratulation  to 
the  princes  and  princesses,  I  am  going  this  evening  to 
Mme.  Louis's,  and  to-morrow  to  Prince  Joseph's,  and  I  shall 
most  willingly  offer  them  the  homage  which  I  think  they 
must  enjoy.  Who,  in  truth,  could  sufficiently  admire  the 
genius  displayed  in  this  wonderful  campaign,  if  the  Emperor 
had  not  accustomed  us,  long  since,  never  to  be  astonished  at 
his  exploits  ?  The  popular  delight  is  general ;  malevolence  no 
longer  dares  to  manifest  itself,  and  I  must  own  I  take  a  cer- 
tain pleasure  in  watching  the  embarrassment  of  those  persons 
who  are  foolish  enough  not  to  rejoice  at  our  national  glory. 
We  congratulate  one  another  on  our  victories,  though  in 
point  of  fact  we  never  doubted  them.  May  they  hasten  the 
return  of  the  Emperor !  With  our  friend,  Mme.  de  Sevngne, 
I  say  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart,  "  May  God  spare  him 
to  us ! " 

I  have  just  seen  Corvisart,  who  watches  over  my  health 
with  assiduity  for  which  I  am  grateful.  He  begs  me  to 
thank  you  from  him,  for  your  kind  reception  of  the  surgeons 
he  disj)atched  to  his  Majesty,  and  says  you  will  like  the  phy- 
sician who  accompanied  them,  if  he  has  remained  at  Stras- 
burg,  because  he  is  a  man  of  real  ability.  Corvisart  was 
present  two  days  ago  at  an  operation  for  cataract,  performed 
on  your  friend  Portalis ;  it  was  successfully  accomplished  on 
both  eyes,  and  there  is  every  reason  to  hope  that  he  will 
recover  his  sight.  Your  son  asks  me  to  tell  you  that  he  is 
expecting  your  letter.  He  is  preparing  a  translation,  by  way 
of  answer,  with  which  I  think  you  will  be  pleased.  He  is 
improving,  and  no  longer  dislikes  his  Latin  lessons  so  much 


GODWIN'S  NOVEL.  123 

as  formerly ;  he  learns  a  good  deal  of  Latin  by  heart,  which 
gives  both  him  and  me  some  trouble,  for  he  repeats  his  les- 
sons to  me.  I  am  glad  of  the  occupation ;  it  occupies  both 
my  head  and  my  heart,  and,  when  I  see  him  so  gay  and  happy, 
I  arrive  at  feeling  more  at  ease  myself. 

The  Empress  asked  me  to  send  her  Godwin's  novel,*  and 
Deschamps  should  have  received  it  by  this  time.  I  do  not 
think  she  will  like  it,  for,  though  very  clever,  it  is  full  of  ill- 
nature,  quite  opposed  to  the  disposition  of  our  good  patroness. 
The  author  sees  and  paints  the  worst  side  of  mankind ;  but, 
for  my  own  part,  and  even  at  the  risk  of  being  deceived,  I 
will  not  fling  away  that  gilded  veil  through  which  the  Em- 
peror says  we  look  at  human  nature  in  our  youth.  However, 
there  is  talent  in  the  book,  and  it  may  amuse  your  leisure. 


LXY. 

TO   M.    DE   IlEMUSAT,    AT    STRASBURG. 

Paris,  26  Vendemiaire,  Year  XIV. 
{October  18,  1S05.) 

So  you  have  taken  it  into  your  head  to  scold  me,  though  I 
am  always  writing  to  you — five  letters,  for  instance,  in  the  last 
three  days,  and  if  they  get  lost  it  is  no  fault  of  mine  !  You 
are  in  the  wrong,  mon  ami,  and  you  write  just  like  a  lazy  man, 
quite  proud  of  his  own  punctuality.  Since  you  choose  to  be 
angi-y,  I  will  be  the  same,  and  will  make  out  a  little  list  of  all 
my  grievances,  which  are  better  founded  than  yours.  Mon 
ami,  you  write  me  very  charming  letters ;  you  write  them 
often,  and  they  form  the  happiness  of  my  life ;  all  this  is  as 
it  should  be.  But  in  none  of  your  letters  do  you  answer  the 
questions  I  am  continually  putting  to  you.  I  know  no  par- 
ticulars of  the  Emperor's  stay  at  Strasburg ;  I  am  in  igno- 
rance whether  you  have  received  the  parcel  from  Desfauche- 

*  This  must  be  "Caleb  Williams,"  Godwin's  most  celebrated  worlt. 


124  LETTERS   OF  MADAME  DE  Rl^MUSAT. 

rets,  and  therefore  I  can  not  give  him  any  message  of  thanks 
from  you  ;  you  say  nothing  about  M.  de  Cauhiincourt,  tliough 
I  am  continually  inquiring  for  him ;  you  do  not  write  to  my 
mother,  who  consequently  is  not  pleased.  What  else  ?  .  .  . 
But  I  have  said  enough  for  once ;  defend  yourself  if  you 
can,  and  to  appease  me,  try  to  give  us  frequent  news  of  M. 
de  Nansouty,  for  his  wife  receives  no  letters. 

I  went  yesterday  evening  to  Princess  Louis's ;  she  was 
glad  of  our  victories,  but  sorrowful  on  account  of  the  indi- 
vidual misfortunes  which  even  the  most  splendid  triumphs 
entail.  She  is  grieved  by  Lacaee's  death,  and  said  patheti- 
cally, "  When  I  read  the  accounts,  I  am  surprised  to  lind 
that  my  tears  begin  to  flow,  although  I  am  so  glad  of  all  our 
success."  Prince  Louis  frets  over  his  ill  health,  which  com- 
pels him  to  remain  here ;  he  spoke  with  me  for  a  long  time 
about  M.  de  Nansouty,  and  was- really  kind,  on  this  occasion, 
to  the  whole  family.  The  quiet  little  evenings  we  spend 
with  the  dear  Princess  are  very  pleasant.  She  goes  out  very 
little,  and  just  receives  a  few  intimate  friends ;  we  all  chat 
quietly  together,  and  yesterday  M.  de  Lavalette,  whom  I  like 
much,  as  you  know,  was  there.  To-night  I  am  going  to 
Prince  Joseph's — he  has  a  reception — and  to-morrow  prob- 
ably to  Princess  Borghese's.  You  see  I  am  doing  my  duty 
to  the  whole  family.  I  have  also  waited  on  Princess  Caro- 
line ;  *  but,  if  victories  continue  to  succeed  each  other  at  this 
rate,  we  shall  be  always  running  about.  How  I  should  like 
to  be  again  going  to  and  from  the  Tuileries  with  you,  and 
how  relieved  both  heart  and  head  would  feel  if  I  knew  the 
Emperor  were  resting  quietly  in  his  palace,  and  you  in  our 
pretty  home !  .  .  . 

*  Princess  Murat. 


VOLTAIRE.  125 

LXVI. 

TO   M.    DE   REMU6AT,    AT   STRASBURG. 

Paris,  27  Vendeniiairc,  Year  XIV. 
{October  19,  1S05.) 

.  .  .  There  is  nothing  in  the  "Moniteur"  to-daj,  but  we 
are  told  to  expect  the  news  of  some  great  battle  this  even- 
ing ;  I  am  looking  for  letters  from  you,  and  ray  heart  will 
beat  when  I  receive  them.  What  excitement!  what  a  life! 
Poor  creatures  that  we  are,  how  we  struggle  on  our  sand-hill, 
and,  too  often,  hasten  the  moment  when  all  will  be  over ! 
The  glory  with  which  we  clothe  our  ardor  for  mutual  destruc- 
tion is  a  fine  subject  for  philosophizing,  and,  if  anything 
remained  to  be  said  concerning  it,  I  would  not  spare  you, 
because  just  now  I  am  deep  in  philosophy,  and,  moreover, 
having  plenty  of  leisure  for  reading,  I  have  taken  up  Vol- 
taire, whom  I  am  studying  with  a  delight  for  which  I  am  in- 
clined to  reproach  myself.  That  extraordinary  man  is  too 
often  in  the  right,  and  he  has  so  frequently  divined  things, 
that  I  think  he  must  sometimes  have  alarmed  the  very  being 
who  created  him.  For  my  own  part,  I  remain  on  my  guard 
as  much  as  possible  while  reading  his  works,  but,  between  our- 
selves, in  spite  of  my  good  intentions  and  my  previous  preju- 
dices, I  should  scarcely  resist  him,  if  my  heart  could  find  a 
substitute  for  that  of  which  he  seeks  to  deprive  it.  The  dry 
and  barren  tenets  of  j^hilosophy  must  always  fail  in  this,  that 
they  only  please  the  intellect,  and  sometimes  perhaps  stagger 
our  reason,  but  they  can  never  lessen  the  bitterness  of  a  single 
tear — and  who  is  there  who  is  not  called  upon  to  shed  many 
in  this  sorrowful  world  ? 

3fon  ami,  if  you  have  any  leisure  time  you  really  should 
spend  Wednesday  evenings  with  us.  Wednesday  is  our  "  at 
home"  day;  my  mother  and  I  decided  on  it,  so  that  people 
might  be  sure  of  finding  us  one  evening  in  the  week.  IIow 
I  should  like  to  see  you  walk  in  !     Be  assured,  monsieui^  I 


126  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  BE  REMUS  AT. 

would  omit  notliing  to  make  you  welcome,  and  that  I  would 
willingly  push  the  duties  of  hospitality  as  far  as  they  could 
possibly  go. 

I  suffer  in  silence  from  our  separation,  for  I  dare  not 
speak  of  my  own  troubles  in  the  midst  of  sorrowful  widows 
and  mothers.  But,  if  it  is  heart-rending  to  tremble  for  the  life 
of  those  we  love,  it  is  very  painful  also  to  be  so  often  and  so 
long  separated  from  them. 

General  Cesar  Berthier  *  told  me  that  if  you  would  write 
to  General  Matthieu  Dumas,  who  is  with  his  brother,  you 
would  soon  know  if  anything  had  happened  to  Aimery  de 
Montesquiou,  because  it  is  he  who  makes  out  the  list  of  the 
dead. 


LXYII. 

TO   M.    DE    EEMUSAT,    AT    STKASBURG. 

Paris,  Monday _  29  Vendemiaire,  Year  XIV. 
{October  SI,  1805.) 

We  are  in  a  state  of  the  greatest  anxiety ;  no  news  since 

the  20th !     We  learn  by  telegraph  every  day  that  you  are 

equally  ignorant  at  Strasburg.     What  can  this  silence  mean  ? 

How  alarming  it  is !     Another  engagement  to  follow  the 

first  two  had  been  so  decisively  announced,  that  we  expected 

it  to  take  place  immediately.     But  now,  all  is  silence ;  you, 

even,  do  not  write,  and  my  heart  misgives  me.f     We  go 

*  General  Cesar  Bertliier,  the  brother  of  the  Prince  de  Wagram,  and  very 
much  younger  than  he,  distinguished  himself  in  the  army.  He  died  at  Grosbois 
in  1819. 

f  The  general  longing  for  news,  and  for  an  escape  from  the  tragic  situation 
in  which  the  Emperor  was  always  placing  France,  made  his  own  admirers  even 
somewhat  unjust,  for  few  campaigns  can  be  compared  with  this  one.  The  Em- 
peror, who  had  quitted  St.  Cloud  on  2  Vendemiaire,  crossed  the  Danube  at 
Nordlingen  on  the  14th,  seized  the  bridge  over  the  Lech  on  the  15th,  and  fought 
on  the  16th  at  Wcrlingen  and  Aichach.  Marshal  Soult  had  entered  Augsburg 
on  the  17th;  the  engagements  at  Landsberg  and  Albeck  had  taken  place  on  the 


TALMA.  127 

every  evening  to  the  Princess  Louis's  to  wait  for  news  witli 
lier.  The  courier  arrives  at  eleven  o'clock  without  brinffino- 
any ;  we  exchange  sorrowful  glances,  and  take  our  leave 
without  trusting  ourselves  to  speak.  I  was  at  ^euilly  this 
morning,  where  I  found  Princess  Caroline  alone  and  thought- 
ful. Notwithstanding  her  efforts  to  appear  unconcerned,  she 
seemed  very  anxious,  and,  fixing  her  eyes  upon  a  map,  she 
was  unable  to  see  aught  but  the  dangers  of  the  splendid  posi- 
tion we  were  admiring  a  few  days  ago.  How  great  is  the 
power  of  the  imagination !  how  quickly  it  seizes  upon  us ! 
how  it  disturbs  our  whole  machinery !  When  this  letter 
reaches  you,  cher  ami,  you  will  perhaps  have  received  bulle- 
tins, and  we  perhaps  shall  be  more  at  case.  Meanwhile, 
what  hours,  what  days  do  we  not  pass  through !  Can  we  call 
this  living?  My  poor  sister  is  in  a  deplorable  condition; 
she  weeps  continually,  and  for  the  last  two  days  believes  all 
that  she  fears. 

Ifofi  ami,  I  have  been  obliged  to  lay  aside  my  pen,  and 
I  now  take  it  up  again  to  tell  you  what  interrupted  me.  It 
was  that  poor  fellow  Talma  who  came  to  see  me,  and  whose 
state  is  such  that  I  was  even  moved  to  tears.  For  some  days 
past,  his  nervous  attacks  had  returned,  and  with  such  vio- 
lence that  he  had  to  give  up  the  idea  of  acting  for  a  consid- 
erable period,  for  fear  of  some  serious  accident.  In  fact,  the 
cast  of  the  "Tem])liers"  had  to  be  changed,  and  the  play 
itself  injured,  in  my  opinion,  by  giving  Lafond's  part  to 
Bajitiste,  and  Talma's  to  Lafond.  I  should  have  prefeiTcd 
the  play  being  withdrawn  for  the  winter,  but  they  would  not 
agree  to  this.  An  hour  or  so  ago,  Mme.  Talma  arrived,  all 
in  tears.  She  made  an  appeal  to  me,  and  told  me  that  she 
will  lose  her  husband  ;  that  he  is  becoming  insane  ;  that  mis- 
fortune has  driven  him  out  of  his  senses  ;  that  all  their  fumi- 

18th  and  20th,  and  the  French  had  entered  Munich.  On  the  21st  fhc  Emperor 
was  on  the  road  to  Ulm,  and  on  the  22d  Marshal  \ey  fought  the  battle  of 
Elchinf;en.  Ulna  surrendered  on  the  25th,  and  Austerlitz  was  won  a  mouth 
afterward. 


128  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  R^MUSAT. 

ture  has  been  seized,  and  that  they  are  without  a  sou.  I 
consoled  her  to  the  best  of  my  ability,  and  asked  where  was 
her  husband.  She  replied  that  he  was  in  a  hackney  coach 
outside,  not  having  the  courage  to  present  himself.  I  sent 
for  him,  as  you  may  imagine,  and  he  came  in,  looking  a  real 
ghost  of  tragedy,  pale  and  thin.  The  first  thing  he  did  was 
to  faint ;  then  he  wej^t,  cried  out,  and  really  frightened  me. 
He  showed  me  a  letter  he  has  written  to  you ;  you  will  see 
the  state  he  is  in,  and  what  you  can  do  for  him.  Meanwhile, 
I  spoke  kindly  to  him,  and  when  he  began  to  come  to  him- 
self, I  advised  him  to  struggle  against  these  seizures,  lest  he 
might  altogether  sink  under  them.  I  promised  I  would  ask 
for  a  grant  from  the  Minister  of  Police,  if  such  a  thing  were 
possible ;  I  said  I  would  forward  his  letter  to  you,  and  as  he 
told  me  that  he  had  been  obliged  to  engage  to  pay  away  all 
his  future  earnings,  I  asked  him  to  give  me  an  exact  and 
sincere  account  of  his  debts,  with  the  names  of  his  creditors 
and  the  engagements  he  had  entered  into  with  them,  and 
that  I  would  send  it  to  you.  "My  husband,"  I  said,  "who 
is  now  at  a  distance  from  the  Emperor,  will  probably  find 
himself  unable  to  give  you  the  considerable  sum  of  money 
that  you  require,  but  if  the  state  of  your  affairs  is  explained 
to  him,  he  may,  by  making  certain  promises  to  your  credi- 
tors, stop  their  proceedings  against  you,  and  prevent  you 
from  entering  on  any  ruinous  course  of  action."  I  wish  you 
could  have  seen  the  poor  fellow's  looks  as  he  listened  to  me ! 
It  seemed,  in  truth,  as  if  I  were  restoring  him  to  life ;  he 
wept,  and  called  us  both  his  guardian  angels.  He  is  ex- 
tremely weak,  and  I  fear  for  his  reason  if  he  is  not  be- 
friended. See  what  you  can  do  on  his  behalf,  and  write 
either  to  him  or  to  me  on  the  subject.  Be  assured  that  there 
is  no  exaggeration  in  what  I  have  told  you,  for,  in  truth,  I 
was  not  able  to  restrain  my  tears.  I  sent  for  a  score  of 
bottles  of  Bordeaux,  and  had  them  conveyed  to  his  house. 


GOOD  NEWS.  12'J 


LXYIII. 


TO   M.    DE    REMUSAT,  AT  STRASBURG. 

Paris,  Thursday,  2  Jirumaire,  Year  XIV. 
{October  24,  1S05.) 

Mon  ami,  you  must  be  satisfied  witli  only  a  few  words 
from  me  this  morning,  I  am  so  agitated  and  so  deliglited !  * 
I  had  been  for  ten  days  in  such  anxiety  that  I  can  still 
scarcely  command  myself.  However,  I  have  written  to  the 
Empress,  but  I  think  my  letter  must  have  shown  signs  of 
the  state  into  which  the  good  news  has  thrown  me.  If  you 
knew  what  evil  reports  were  bruited  abroad,  and  what  I  suf- 
fered from  your  silence !  But  let  us  say  no  more  of  this. 
Your  dear  letter  has  made  me  forget  it  all.  Only  I  am 
trembling  so  much  that  I  can  scarcely  hold  my  pen,  and  I 
spent  all  my  little  strength  in  writing,  as  well  as  I  could,  to 
our  beloved  and  happy  Empress.  Tell  her  of  my  heartfelt 
sympathy  with  her  joy,  and  that,  in  very  truth,  she  has  never 
ceased  to  be  present  in  my  thoughts  since  that  week  in  which 
we  knew  of  her  anxieties.     I  shared  in  yours  also.  .  .  . 


LXIX. 

TO   M.    DE   REMUSAT,    AT    STRASBURG. 

Paris,  3  B)~umaire,  Year  A'lV. 
( October  25,  1S05.) 

I  WAS  SO  overcome  and  so  agitated  yesterday,  with  the 
great  news,  that  I  coidd  only  write  you  a  word  or  two.  I 
am  just  as  happy  to-day,  but  more  tranquil,  and  I  take  up 
my  pen  to  tell  you  of  everything  that  had  preceded  our  great 
joy.     For  ten  days  we  had  been  without  couriers,  and  for  six 

*  Evidentl)-  the  capitulation  of  Ulm,  which  took  place  on  28  Vcnddniiaire 
(October  20,  1805). 


130  LETTERS   OF  MADAME  DE  Rj'jMUSAT. 

you  had  not  written,  and  secret  misgivings,  that  I  dared  not 
put  into  words,  were  mingled  with  tlie  great  anxiety  that  I 
shared  with  every  one  else.  I  said  to  myself,  "  If  my  hus- 
band knows  nothing  of  the  movements  of  the  army,  and 
therefore  can  tell  me  nothing,  at  least  he  could  write  about 
his  own  health  and  the  affection  that  makes  me  so  happy." 
I  understand  now  that  you  were  anxious  like  ourselves,  and 
would  not  tell  me  so.  As  usual,  all  sorts  of  evil  rumors 
were  circulated  here.  There  had  been  a  most  sanguinary 
engagement ;  Prince  Murr.t  had  been  wounded,  and  several 
generals  killed !  My  poor  sister  wept  and  knew  not  what 
to  believe ;  added  to  this,  every  day  I  saw  poor  unhappy 
Mme.  de  Fezensac,  who  was  in  a  most  pitiable  state.  Thus, 
occupying  myself  in  consoling  these  two  poor  ladies,  without 
much  hope  myself,  and  secretly  fretting  about  you  and  our 
future  prospects,  I  spent  melancholy  days  and  wretched 
nights. 

Yesterday  was  a  grand  day  !  At  six  in  the  morning  I 
ring  my  bell.  I  hear  that  Charles,  who  had  been  indisposed 
the  previous  day,  has  had  an  excellent  night  and  is  in  good 
spirits.  At  seven  your  letter  arrives,  and  shortly  afterAvard 
I  receive  a  note,  telling  me  that  Philippe  de  Segurhas  writ- 
ten word  that  Aimery  is  in  good  health.  I  went  to  congrat- 
ulate his  grandmother  and  sisters  ;  *  all  the  family  begged 
me  to  thank  you  for  your  kindness,  for  which  they  are  most 
grateful.  All  this  good  news  arriving  at  once,  moved  me 
very  deeply,  and  your  poor  wife,  as  you  may  imagine,  was 
rather  knocked  up ;  but  I  slept  well  last  night,  and  am  calm 
this  morning.  I  am  dining  to-day  with  Princess  Borghese, 
and  am  going  afterward  to  the  "  Mariage  de  Figaro  ; "  for 
we  may  as  well  amuse  ourselves  a  little  now  that  our  minds 
are  relieved.  The  Frangais  has  put  this  play  very  carefully 
on  the  stage.  The  first  performance  drew  a  large  house. 
They  hope  to  make  something  by  it,  for  this  month  the  re- 

*  Mme.  de  la  Live  was  his  grandmother,' and  Mraes.de  Vintimillc  and  de  Fe- 
zensac his  sisters. 


POPULAR  ENTHUSIASM.  131 

ceipts  have  been  next  to  nothing,  I  am  astonished  that 
Maherault  has  not  written  to  you,  or  rather  I  perceive  that 
he  lias  deceived  me,  for  every  time  tliat  he  came  liere  com- 
plaining I  used  to  advise  him  to  tell  you,  and  he  invariably 
said  he  had  done  so.  I  am  convinced  that  a  letter  from  you 
will  be  of  use,  but  do  not  address  it  to  the  Commissioner,  for 
his  influence  is  worn  out.  Talma  brought  me  yesterday  a 
list  of  his  debts  ;  they  seem  terribly  heavy,  lie  told  me  he 
had  omitted  nothing,  having  entire  confidence  in  you.  His 
current  expenses  do  not  distress  him ;  he  thinks  he  will  be 
able  to  defray  them  ;  but  the  amount  he  owes  for  rent,  and 
the  interest  he  must  pay  on  his  debts,  reduce  him  to  a  pitia- 
ble condition.  lie  met  Corvisart  here,  who  encouraged  him 
to  bear  up  against  his  nervousness  in  order  to  overcome  it, 
and  wlio  trancpiilized  him  by  speaking  hopefully  of  his 
health. 

I  wrote  a  letter  to  the  Emjjress  yesterday ;  it  M'as,  per- 
haps, rather  incoherent,  for  my  head  was  aching  badly  and 
my  hand  trembling.  Tell  her  that  all  of  us  here  were  shar- 
ers in  her  anxiety,  and  afterward  in  her  joy,  and  that  I 
could  see  by  the  interest  she  created  how  much  she  is 
beloved.  There  is  great  excitement  prevailing,  moreover. 
The  Emperor's  victories  have  roused  every  one's  enthusi- 
asm ;  he  is  called  the  greatest  man  that  has  ever  existed,  and 
the  campaign  the  most  stupendous.  Grandmaison  *  said, 
rather  happily,  the  day  before  yesterday,  that  it  Avas  the  Em- 
peror's habit  to  improvise  his  triumphs. 

When  the  great  news  was  announced  at  the  theatres,  they 
rang  with  ap])lause  and  shouts.  2[oii  ami,  what  a  splendid 
sight  his  Majesty's  entry  into  Paris  will  be !  But  when  is 
he  coming,  and  when  shall  I  see  you  ?  What  mingled  feel- 
ings will  be  mine  on  that  happy  day  !  As  wife,  friend,  and 
Frenchwoman,  all  my  desires  will  be  accomplished. 

*  Parseval-Grandmaison,  a  member  of  the  French  Academy.     lie  died  in 
1834. 


132  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  R&MUSAT. 

LXX. 

TO    M.  DE    EEMUSAT,    AT    STRASBUKG. 

Paris,  5  Brumaire,  Year  XIV. 
( October  27,  1805.) 

I  SAW,  yesterday,  a  note  from  M.  de  Talleyrand  to  Mme. 
Devaines,  in  which  he  says  the  Empress  had  heen  greatly 
agitated,  and  afterward  extremely  happy.  We  shared  here 
in  all  her  emotions,  and,  in  truth,  such  agitation  is  wearing. 
You  must  have  had  an  anxious  time,  and  my  mother  and  I 
often  thought  of  your  melancholy  expression  and  pale  coun- 
tenance. How  distressing,  my  dearest,  not  to  be  together  on 
such  occasions !  There  is  something  pleasing  m  grieving  to- 
gether, and  in  the  mutual  expression  of  anxiety  ending  by 
the  sad  but  tender  assurance  of  an  affection  which  softens 
every  misfortune. 

If  you  care  for  a  piece  of  news,  let  me  inform  you  that 
Mme.  Lavoisier  exists  no  longer.  The  Countess  Kumford 
has  taken  her  place.  No  one  knows  when  this  great  feat 
was  accomplished,  but  it  seems  that  nothing  is  wanting,  ex- 
cept, as  my  mother  says,  the  Stove.  Count  Rumford  went 
yesterday  morning  to  bear  the  news  to  Bertrand,  Gallois, 
etc.  These  gentlemen  paid  their  visit  the  same  evening,  in- 
tending to  offer  their  congratulations  ;  but  the  lady  of  the 
house  cut  them  short,  saying  it  was  an  old  affair,  and  chang- 
ing the  subject,  the  conversation  turned  on  ordinary  topics. 
The  only  difference  was  calling  them  Co7nte,  Comiesse. 

I  have  heard  from  our  friends,  the  Cherons;  they  are 
beginning  to  get  accustomed  to  their  new  life.  The  hus- 
band seems  happy,  and  the  wife  less  melancholy,  although 
she  has  been  obliged  to  send  her  son  away  to  school.  She 
asks  me  to  remember  her  to  you,  and  is,  like  ourselves,  full 
of  expectation  and  delight.  We  are  expecting  to  hear  next 
of  a  victory  over  the  Russians.  Mme.  de  Vannoise  shud- 
ders at  the  idea,  because  her  son  is  in  Bernadotte's  division. 


MADAME  DE   VAN  NOISE.  133 

M.  Dumas  *  promised  my  cousin  he  would  make  inquiries 
about  her  son,  and  if  you  would  speak  with  him  on  the  sub- 
ject, you  would  be  doing  a  kindness  to  this  poor  mother. 
As  she  is  dining  here,  she  will  give  me  her  son's  address. 
Here  it  is :  "  Alexander  de  Yannoise,  f  Corporal  in  the 
Ninety-fifth  Regiment,  in  Bernadotte's  army."  She  is  very 
unhappy  this  year ;  her  affairs  are  in  a  worse  state  than  ever, 
and  anxiety  for  her  children  is  killing  her.  She  comes  here 
nearly  every  day  for  society  and  consolation.  Mamma  made 
her  a  little  present  of  firewood,  which  she  accepted  so  grate- 
fully that  it  brought  tears  to  my  eyes.  Meanwhile,  her 
daughter  grows  lovelier  every  day.  When  I  take  her  to 
the  theatre  she  makes  quite  a  sensation.  She  is  tall,  very 
plump,  and,  in  my  opinion,  beats  all  the  beauties  of  the 
day.  Norvins  is  haK  inclined  to  be  in  love  with  her,  but 
feels  that  he  is  not  rich  enough,  and  she  thinks  him  very 
ugly.  By  the  way,  he  has  quite  taken  possession  here ;  he 
comes  morning  and  evening,  he  entertains  mamma  and  plays 
with  Charles,  he  does  commissions  for  me,  he  weeps,  or,  at 
least,  feels  anxious  with  Alix,  and,  in  fact,  makes  love  to 
the  whole  family.  He  is  rather  amusing,  though  not  very 
good  style,  but,  having  nothing  better,  we  like  him  very 
well.  This  disgusts  Abbe  Morellet,  whom  he  worries  with 
bad  jokes,  and  who  sighs  w'earily  when  he  finds  him  estab- 
lished at  our  fireside.  But  it  can  not  be  helped.  •  Paris  is 
so  empty  now,  we  must  put  np  with  what  we  can  get. 

*  General  Matthicu  Dumas,  who  died  ia  1837. 

\  Mme.  de  Vannoise  had  two  sons :  Hippolytc,  an  officer  in  the  artillery, 
who  died  in  Russia  in  1812,  and  Alexander,  at  that  time  a  soldier,  who  died 
long  afterward. 


13tt  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  REM  US  AT. 


LXXI. 

TO   M.   DE   KEMUSAT,   AT    STRASBUEG. 

Paris,  8  Brumairc,  Year  XIV. 
{October  30,  1805.) 

From  what  yon  write  to  me,  I  see  that,  among  others,  yon 
have  not  received  my  letter  of  the  29th,  in  which  I  spoke  of 
Tahna's  visit  to  me.  I  told  yon  that  he  had  come  to  see  me, 
half  wild  with  despair,  because  his  goods  had  just  been  seized, 
and  that  I  could  only  succeed  in  calming  him  by  promising  I 
w^ould  forward  a  letter  he  had  written  to  you,  and  an  exact 
statement  of  his  debts,  as,  although  I  did  not  think  you  could 
afford  him  any  pecuniary  assistance  during  the  absence  of  the 
Emperor,  you  might  perhaps  use  your  authority  to  prevent 
his  creditors  from  taking  advantage  of  his  illness,  and  the 
confusion  of  his  affairs,  to  impose  hard  conditions.  I  have 
since  forwarded  the  statement  I  allude  to,  but  I  do  not  know 
whether  it  will  reach  you.  I  petitioned  the  Minister  of  Police 
also  for  a  little  temporary  help,  which  he  pronjised  to  grant. 
Finally,  I  comforted  poor  Talma  in  some  degree. 

From  what  you  say  concerning  the  theatre,  I  perceive 
that  another  letter  of  mine  has  not  reached  you,  in  which  I 
mentioned  the  "  Festin  de  Pierre,"  which,  though  admirably 
acted,  did  not  draw.  As  to  the  "  Mariage  de  Figaro,"  it  is 
quite  true  that  it  drawls  well,  and  I  enjoyed  it  much.  Do 
send  me  your  letter  for  the  actors,  or  come  yourself  and  set 
them  in  order.  Your  bright  idea  of  asking  for  leave  to 
come  and  spend  three  weeks  with  me  makes  my  heart  beat. 
Seriously,  apart  from  affection,  which  is  not  counted  for 
much  in  the  affairs  of  this  world,  your  presence  here  is  neces- 
sary. But,  when  I  remember  other  considerations,  I  know 
that  you  ought  to  join  the  Emperor  if  he  remains  in  Ger- 
many, and  I  say  to  myself  that  perhaps  your  best  plan  would 
be  to  write  to  M.  de  Caulaincourt  and  ask  leave  to  join  his 
Majesty,  after  staying  in  Paris  as  long  as  necessary  to  settle 


777^  OPERA  IN  DEBT.  I35 

the  accounts  of  the  year  that  has  just  closed.  This  piece  of 
advice  is  the  result  of  an  effort  that  you  will  appreciate  as  it 
deserves ;  but  you  must  decide  as  you  feel  will  be  best. 

The  lines  that  you  send  me  are  very  prett3\  I  fear  it  is 
now  a  little  late  for  tliera ;  but  I  will  consult  Campenon. 
He  is  worried  also  about  his  theatre,  where  Elleviou  is  ter- 
ribly missed.  It  is  better  attended  than  the  Frangais,  but 
not  so  well  as  to  make  it  j)ay. 

The  Opera  only  is  always  crowded,  and  I  can  not  think 
how  they  can  be  so  much  in  debt,  with  such  good  houses. 


LXXTI. 

TO   M.    DE    KEMUSAT,    AT   STRASBURG. 

Paris,  Sattirdai/,  11  JBrumaire,  Year  A'lV. 
{November  2,  1805.) 

T  CAN  quite  well  sympathize  with  your  dislike  of  the 
empty  life  you  are  leading  at  Strasburg,  and  I  understand 
your  wish  to  be  at  Paris  or  Munich.  If  my  feelings  make 
me  wish  to  have  you  here,  I  try,  on  the  other  hand,  to  sup- 
press them,  because  I  am  conscious  that  duty  calls  you  to  his 
Majesty's  side.  Since  some  civilians  are  already  there,  since 
Auguste  de  Talleyrand  is  with  him,  I  feel  that  you  ought  to 
make  every  effort  to  be  there  too,  and  I  try  to  accustom  my- 
self to  the  thought  that  you  have  already  preferred  your  re- 
quest, and  that,  valuing  the  privilege  as  you  do,  it  will  surely 
be  granted.  Another  reason  for  bearing  bravely  the  sorrow 
that  I  must  feel  at  your  prolonged  absence  is  that  I  perceive 
that,  from  different  motives,  several  persons  here  are  sur- 
prised that  you  are  not  with  the  Emperor.  I  repeat,  then, 
whatever  it  may  cost  me,  I  approve  of  your  zeal,  and  I  con- 
sent to  the  increased  distance  between  us.  "Write  therefore, 
cher  ami,  entreat,  and  obtain  this  favor;  I  will  submit  to 


136  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  RMUSAT. 

everything,  and,  however  painful  this  further  separation,  I 
shall  have  courage  for  the  sacrifice. 

I  have  changed  M.  de  Tournon's  money  at  considerable 
loss.  Mme.  de  la  Rochefoucauld,  who  had  intended  to  start 
on  Saturday,  had  kindly  taken  charge  of  it.  But  she  is  ill, 
and  her  journey  is  again  delayed ;  I  fear  that  you  may  be 
pressed  for  it,  and  I  am  going  to  write  to  M.  de  Lavalette  to 
ask  him  how  to  insure  your  promptly  receiving  the  four 
thousand  francs,  partly  in  gold,  partly  in  silver.  I  was 
obliged  to  lose  thirty-six  francs  on  the  notes  for  a  thousand 
francs,  and  forty-two  on  the  gold.  You  see  we  are  far  from 
being  at  par.  It  is  thought  here  that  there  is  a  good  deal  of 
trickery  and  jobbing  on  the  part  of  the  brokei-s. 

We  spent  yesterday  evening  in  great  state  at  Prince 
Joseph's.  A  Te  Deum  had  been  sung  in  the  morning,  and 
in  the  evening  there  was  a  grand  reception  at  the  Luxem- 
bourg. Durino;  the  concert  there  were  rumors  of  a  fresh 
victory  over  the  Russians,  but  the  news  was  not  ofiicial.  We 
are  all  expectation.  The  Princess  Joseph  is  pleasant  and 
kind  in  her  own  house,  and  makes  her  guests  welcome.  I 
am  dining  to-day  at  the  Archchancellor's,  and  on  Monday  at 
Prince  Louis's.  After  that  I  shall  rest  a  little,  for  this  week 
of  visits  and  full  dress  has  rather  tired  me.  Mme.  Devalues 
says  that  the  Emperor's  rapid  victories  set  us  paying  forced 
visits,  just  like  his  soldiers'  forced  marches. 

I  give  my  son  a  treat  on  hhfete  next  Tuesday.  M.  Des- 
pres  is  kind  enough  to  bring  a  conjuror  to  amuse  him,  and  to 
write  a  few  verses  in  his  honor.*  He  is  wonderfully  well  ; 
he  asked  me  yesterday  to  keep  hi?,  fete  on  Monday,  which  is 
really  St.  Charles's  Day,  and  when  I  explained  that  I  must 
dine  on  that  day  with  Prince  Louis,  "  You  should  write  to 
him,"  said  he,  "like  some  one  I  have  read  about,  that  you 
would  rather  eat  a  carp  with  your  children  than  go  to  dinner 
with  the  Prince  de  Conde." 

*  M.  Dcsprfes  was  a  writer  of  vaudevilles.     He  was  at  one  time  Inspector  of 
the  University. 


AMUSEMENT  AND  STUDY.  137 

On  Sunday  and  Thursday,  to  amuse  him,  he  and  I  act 
proverbs  that  we  have  adapted,  or  scenes  from  phiys,  with 
Constance  and  my  mother.  M.  Bertrand,  Mme.  de  Yannoise, 
Mme.  de  Grasse,  and  Alix  form  the  audience.  To-morrow 
we  are  going  to  act  tlie  two  last  scenes  of  tlie  "  Depit  Amou- 
reux  ; "  it  makes  a  kind  of  i-)roverb,  "  Like  master,  hke  man." 
Constance  acts  Lucile,  and  I  Marinette,  while  Charles,  who 
is  the  Preville  of  our  company,  acts  Eraste  in  the  first  scene, 
and  then,  throwing  off  his  overcoat,  is  transformed  into  Gros- 
Eene.  You  would  be  delighted  with  his  intelligent  concep- 
tion of  both  his  parts,  and  at  the  rapidity  with  which  he 
changes  from  the  languishing  complaints  of  the  master  to  the 
comic  reproaches  of  the  valet.  How  I  long  for  your  pres- 
ence at  our  theatricals !  We  w^ill  give  you  some  grand  per- 
formances on  your  return ! 

Do  not  fancy,  however,  that  we  spend  all  our  time  in 
amusement.  Lessons  get  on  very  well,  too,  and  I  am  pleased 
with  the  little  scholar  I  am  bringing  up  for  you.  And  I  my- 
self do  not  spend  all  my  time  in  trifling,  as  you  shall  judge 
on  hearing  what  I  have  begun  to  study.  I  have  put  history 
aside  in  favor  of  Plato.  Yes,  indeed,  mon  ami,  Plato,  that 
you  know  I  have  been  longing  to  read  ever  since  I  heard  the 
Emperor  talk  so  much  about  him.  I  have  borrowed  the  Ijook, 
and  I  am  deep  in  metaphysics !  I  do  not  always  understand 
him  perfectly,  but  what  I  do  understand  I  like,  and  these 
dreams  of  a  vivid  imagination  seem  to  suit  my  own.  Never- 
theless, if  I  may  venture  to  say  so,  your  old  philosophers  are 
somewhat  verbose,  and  occasionally  they  bring  up  such  a 
multiplicity  of  arguments  that  I  forget  what  they  want  to 
prove. 

It  is  thus  that  I  spend  my  time,  and  my  happiest  days 
are  those  on  which,  free  from  any  invitation,  I  can  occupy 
myself  entirely  with  my  home  and  with  everything  that 
reminds  me  of  you.  Sometimes,  in  the  midst  of  my  book, 
or  when  with  the  children,  I  pause  to  tliink  gratefully  of  all 
the  happiness  I  owe  you,  and  of  the  life  that  you  have  ren- 


138  LETTERS   OF  MADAME  DE  REMUSAT. 

dcred  so  sweet  and  so  easy ;  and  I  no  longer  dare  to  murmur 
at  the  passing  clouds  that  sometimes  darken  it,  for  I  have  to 
thank  Providence  for  the  blessedness  of  belonging  to  you. 


LXXIII. 

TO   M.    DE   REMUSAT,   AT    STKASBUKG. 

Paris,  13  Brumaire,  Year  XIV. 
{November  4,  1805.) 

If  I  wanted  to  fill  my  letter  with  messages  for  you,  I 
could  easily  do  so,  for  I  met  a  number  of  persons  yesterday  at 
Cambaceres's  who  desired  to  be  remembered  to  you;  among 
others,  the  host  first,  then  your  friend  Viry  and  M.  de  Segur. 
The  latter  is  very  much  occupied  with  his  guard  of  honor. 
He  thinks  of  nothing  but  fighting,  and  is  continually  press- 
ing to  get  the  law  passed  that  is  to  organize  his  corps.  He 
says  that,  if  it  be  delayed  much  longer,  he  shall  set  out  and 
join  the  Emperor,  who  w^ill  not  be  very  angry,  hehoiJes,  with 
this  impromptu  journey.  He  wears  himself  out  with  riding 
on  horseback  so  that  he  may  regain  his  former  strength,  and 
lias  written  a  clever  letter  to  the  Emperor,  in  which  he  says 
he  is  the  only  Frenchman  who  finds  fault  with  his  Majesty's 
rapidity,  because  it  does  not  give  him  time  to  form  his  corps. 
He  thought  you  were  at  Munich,  and  in  his  zeal  he  charged 
me  to  express  his  hope  that  you  might  soon  be  there.  I  wish 
the  same,  as  does  every  one,  if  the  war  lasts ;  but,  neverthe- 
less, I  take  the  liberty  of  wishing  for  something  else,  which 
would  bring  the  Emperor  back  to  Paris,  and  suit  us  all,  I 
think.     Don't  you  think  so  ? 

After  the  dinner  at  the  Archchancellor's  I  went  to  a  con- 
cert at  the  BouflPons,  where  I  heard  Mme.  Barilli.  She  has  a 
pure  and  high  voice,  and  a  good  method,  but  she  is  very  cold, 
and  altogether  reminded  me  of  a  Mile.  Eenaud,  whom  you 
may  perhaps  have  seen  at  the  old  Italian  Opera  House.    She 


FRAN g 01 S  DE  NEUFCHATEAIJ.  13U 

is  rather  popular,  and  would  do  well,  I  think,  in  private  con- 
certs. I  have  already  mentioned  the  Bouffons  to  you  in  other 
letters  that  may  have  been  lost ;  they  are  the  fashion,  and 
their  theatre  is  well  filled. 

I  forward  you  a  letter  from  Frangois  de  Neuf chateau,"^ 
which  accompanied  his  book.  I  answered  it  as  well  as  I 
could  in  your  absence,  and  my  cousins  paid  him  a  visit  of 
thanks.  His  history  is  considered  good,  though  rather  flip- 
pant. I  was  congratulated  on  it  yesterday  and  complimented 
on  my  great-uncle.  I  must  read  his  work,  if  I  can  tear  my- 
self from  my  friend  Plato,  who  delights  me  when  I  can  un- 
derstand him. 

Paris  continues  to  be  very  dull ;  people  go  into  society 
with  thoughtful  and  anxious  faces.  One  thing  only  is  de- 
sired :  we  hope  strongly,  yet  we  fear  a  little ;  we  get  through 
the  time  without  caring  how,  and  yet  that  future  toward 
which  we  hasten  will  certainly  not  be  what  we  expect. 


LXXIV. 

TO   M.    DE   REMUSAT,    AT   STEASBURG. 

Paris,  IS  B)~umaire,  Year  XIV. 
{November  9,  1S05.) 

At  last  our  correspondence  is  drawing  to  a  close,  and  we 
shall  be  quits  f(jr  a  few  lost  letters  that  need  not  be  regretted, 
your  anxieties,  that  grieved  me  so  much,  and  some  few  little 
reproofs  which,  between  ourselves,  I  did  not  deserve.    There 

*  Fr:in9ois  de  Neufchateau,  senator,  member  of  the  French  Academy,  cx- 
Minister  of  the  Interior,  was  born  in  1750.  lie  was  a  poet  as  well  as  an  historian. 
The  work  that  he  was  publishing  in  the  year  in  which  Mnie.  de  Remusat's  letter 
was  written  was  entitled,  "  Ilistoire  do  I'Occupation  de  la  Bavicre  par  les  Autri- 
chiens  en  1778  et  1779,  contcnant  les  Details  de  la  Guerre  et  des  Negodation?, 
qui  furent  tcruiinees  par  la  Paix  dcTesehen"  (Paris,  1805).  He  had  published 
in  tiic  year  prccodinp;  a  "  Tableau  des  Vucs  que  sc  propose  la  Politique  Anglais 
dans  toutes  les  Parties  du  Monde"  (Paris,  1804). 


140  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  EEMUSAT. 

are  but  two  packets  that  I  should  like  you  to  have  received — 
one  containing  the  list  of  Talma's  debts,  of  which  I  will  send 
you  a  second  edition  if  you  wish,  and  another  with  a  transla- 
tion by  Charles,  which  would  have  pleased  your  fatherly 
feelings. 

Talma  came  yesterday  to  show  me  your  letter.  He  was 
moved  to  tears  by  the  "  kindness  of  the  reproaches  "  that  he 
said  "  it  contained."  He  wants  to  give  up  his  share  of  the 
receipts,  and  desires  that  some  one  should  manage  his  affairs 
for  him.  He  begs  you  not  to  be  too  angry  on  the  receipt  of 
his  hitdget.  The  melancholy  Maherault  pays  me  a  visit  now 
and  then.  He  looks  nervous  and  alarmed ;  he  sighs  and 
asks  when  you  are  coming  back.  When  he  tells  me  that  the 
theatre  gets  on  badly  in  your  absence,  I  always  tell  him  to 
wa-ite  to  you.     But  to  this  he  never  makes  any  reply. 

What  you  say  of  M,  de  Talleyrand  is  a  relief  after  the 
rumors  we  had  heard  of  his  illness  and  death.  I  can  under- 
stand his  appreciating  you  better  on  seeing  more  of  you. 
There  is  one  side  of  his  character  (not  the  least  worthy) 
which  should  harmonize  with  yours,  and  I  congratulate  you 
on  being  in  his  company,  because  he  will  do  you  justice 
when  he  knows  you  better.  3fon  ami,  you  must  admit  that 
I  have  good  reasons  not  only  for  loving  you  as  I  do,  but  also 
for  preferring  you  before  every  one  I  know,  and  on  this 
point  my  feelings  are  always  approved  by  my  reason.  We 
were  talking  to  Corvisart  of  you.  "You  would  be  too 
happy,"  he  said  to  me,  "  if  such  a  husband  as  yours  were 
never  absent  from  you,  and  if  your  son  could  grow  up  with- 
out giving  any  cause  for  anxiety !  "  And  he  is  right.  Life 
under  such  circumstances  would  be  too  sweet.  How  could 
we  make  up  our  minds  to  quit  it ! 

I  agree  with  you  as  to  your  leaving  Strasburg,  and  I 
admit  that  you  are  in  the  right ;  in  fact,  you  frequently  are, 
and  the  older  I  get  the  more  I  perceive  that.  Do  not,  how- 
ever, take  advantage  of  my  admission,  for  you  know  tliat 
with  us  women  reason  herself  is  not  alwavs  in  the  right. 


TRAFALGAR.  141 

It  is  quite  true  that  monetary  affairs  are  very  uneasy  liere ; 
and  if  this  lasts  it  will  become  a  serious  matter.  Kotes  for  a 
thousand  francs  are  at  ninety  francs,  and  tliere  are  even  some 
shopkeepei-s  who  will  not  take  them  at  all.  One  of  them 
told  me  that  before  she  received  her  goods  she  was  obliged 
to  specify  whether  she  would  pay  in  cash  or  in  notes.  There 
is  some  grumbling,  for  nobody  buys  and  nobody  pays.  There 
are  large  crowds  at  the  entrance  to  the  Bank,  and  pickpockets 
cause  constant  confusion.  It  is  said  that  the  bankers  have 
met  together  for  the  purpose  of  taking  some  decision  ;  that 
they  have  written  to  tlie  provincial  towns,  Lyons  among 
others,  which  have  declined  to  help  them ;  and  that  the 
quantity  of  money  required  for  the  army,  and  the  stock  job- 
bing besides,  are  the  two  causes  of  the  scarcity.  The  fact  is 
that  the  inconvenience  is  great,  and  there  is  not  enough  pub- 
lic spirit  among  the  bankers  to  induce  them  to  saeritice  their 
private  interests  to  those  of  the  Bank.  They  have  wa-itten  to 
tlie  Emperor,  but  how  is  it  possible  to  explain  everything  at 
such  a  distance?  and  what  an  annoyance  for  him,  in  the  midst 
of  his  great  affairs,  to  have  to  attend  to  details  of  this  kind ! 
In  truth,  we  do  not  help  him  much,  and  we  put  on  him  the 
whole  burden  of  our  well-being. 

We  have  bad  news  from  the  Cadiz  fleet.  The  details, 
which  as  yet  are  not  given  officially,  are  daily  exaggerated  ; 
but,  after  makins;  due  allowance,  there  would  seem  to  have 
been  great  rashness  on  the  part  of  Villcneuve,  who  insisted 
on  leavino;  the  harbor  before  the  arrival  of  his  successor,  and 
who  has  managed  his  dangerous  venture  very  badly.  A 
frightful  tempest  w^as  raging,  and  botli  sides  fought  with 
the  utmost  fury.  The  admiral  was  taken  prisoner.  Nelson 
killed,  they  say,  and  Magon  also.  There  is  no  doubt  about 
the  last.  Only  twelve  of  our  vessels  returned  to  port,  and 
the  Bucentaure  foundered.  If  this  be  true,  poor  little  Par- 
seval  *  has  perished,  and  perhaps  young  d'Houdetot  as  well. 

*  The  battle  of  Trafalgar  was  foupht  on  October  2d.   M.  de  Parseval  was  not 
killed,  neither  was  young  M.  d'Houdetot,  who  was  destined  to  beeome  General 


142  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  EEMDSAT. 

M.  de  Lina  told  Alix  that  all  private  accounts  agreed  in  prais- 
ing the  courage  and  skill  of  the  French,  but  said,  at  the  same 
time,  it  was  impossible  to  form  quickly  and  safely  into  line 
of  battle  in  such  a  gale  of  wind,  and  against  an  enemy 
already  in  battle  order,  and,  moreover,  very  skillful.  The 
French  were  so  desperate  that,  their  admiral's  flagship  being 
taken,  in  the  night  the  prisoners  massacred  the  English  sailors 
who  were  guarding  them,  and  succeeded  in  escaping.  But 
the  ship  had  suffered  terribly,  and  went  down  in  sight  of  the 
harbor.  I  hope  that  some  of  these  details  are  exaggerated. 
You  will  know  sooner  than  I,  and  will  write  me  word. 

I  thank  you  for  your  good  news.  It  is  indeed  a  miracu- 
lous campaign,  and  I  say,  like  an  excellent  country  gentleman 
who  wrote  to  my  mother  yesterday,  "  By  the  side  of  our  Em- 
peror, Csesar  and  Alexander  would  have  been  but  lieutenants." 
Alix  has  at  last  heard  from  her  husband.  He  had  suffered  a 
little  from  the  cold  weather  and  the  snow,  but  is  in  good 
health  nevertheless.  His  wife's  letters  do  not  reach  him. 
If  you  could  contrive  to  let  him  know,  either  through  M.  de 
Talleyrand  or  M.  de  Caulaincourt,  that  she  is  well,  and  that 
Stephen  *  is  more  charming  than  ever,  it  would  be  a  great 
kindness.  Poor  Thierry  f  traveled  fifty  miles  in  vain  after 
the  lost  letters.  Mme.  de  Fezensac  has  heard  from  her  son ; 
he  is  perfectly  well,  often  sleeps  on  the  ground  in  the  open 
air,  but  takes  no  harm,  and  seems  in  capital  spirits.  He 
writes  that  the  Emperor  goes  about  everywhere,  wet  and 
muddy  like  the  rest  of  them,  and  that  he  is  positively  wor- 
shiped by  the  soldiers.  Some  young  men  of  our  acquaint- 
ance, who  are  there  and  conducting  themselves  well,  will 
contrast  favorably  with  all  the  idlers  who,  in  laying  down 
their  sword,  seem  to  have  laid  down  their  manhood  also.  .  .  . 

France  d'Houdetot.  He  was,  however,  severely  wounded  in  both  knees.  He  was 
on  board  Magon's  ship,  a  friend  of  his  family's  who  was  killed.  M.  de  Parseval- 
Deschenes  rose  to  the  rank  of  vice-admiral,  and  died  in  1860. 

*  Etiennc  (or  Stephen)  de  Nansouty,  the  General's  son. 

f  M.  Thierry  was  aide-de-camp  to  General  Nansouty. 


SNEEZING  AND    WISHING.  143 


LXXV. 

TO    M.    DE   REMUSAT,    AT    STRASBURG. 

Paris,  Tuesday,  21  Bimmairc,  Year  XIV. 
{Novemba- 12,  1S05.) 

.  .  .  This  morning  Charles  sneezed,  and  I  politely  said, 
"  May  you  obtain  your  wish,  my  son  !  "  "  My  wish,"  he  said, 
"  is  that  papa  may  come  home."  And,  without  sneezing, 
moil  ami,  that  is  my  most  ardent  wish  also.  It  pervades  the 
whole  atmosphere  of  the  house ;  mistresses  and  servants,  we 
all  want  you  back.  This  is  all  I  have  to  tell  you  to-day,  for 
I  know  of  nothing  else,  and  my  heart  is  full  of  sadness  that 
I  do  not  wish  to  communicate  to  you.  Not  that  there  is  any- 
thing fresh ;  but  the  weather  is  gloomy,  people  complain  of 
the  scarcity  of  money,  croaking  politicians  will  have  it  that 
Prussia  is  going  to  declare  against  us,  and  then  this  long  wid- 
owhood, and  the  solitary  hours  far  from  him  I  love  best,  are 
killing  me  with  dullness  and  melancholy.  Your  empty  days 
at  Strasburg  are  not  worse  than  mine.  How  I  long  for 
another  year,  though,  perhaps,  it  would  be  more  sensible  for 
me  now  not  to  wish  time  to  fly  so  fast !  How  painful  is  the 
absence  of  all  that  consoles  the  heart  or  delights  the  eyes ! 
This  great  Paris  becomes  every  day  more  gloomy ;  no  one 
visits,  we  shut  ourselves  up  that  we  may  not  spend  our  money. 
The  theatres  are  absolutely  empty,  the  shop-windows  full  of 
things  that  nobody  buys,  and  ennui  is  the  order  of  the  day. 
Meanwhile  the  Emperor  is  bestowing  glory  and  success  on 
his  army,  and  tlic  next  news  will,  no  doubt,  be  dated  from 
Vienna.  Would  you  believe  that  sitting  here  all  alone  by  my 
fire,  and  going  over  this  astonishing  campaign,  seeing  him  at 
the  end  of  six  weeks  entering  the  enemy's  capital  in  triumph, 
I  feel  alai-med  for  the  danger  he  is  perhaps  incurring,  and 
lest  traitors  may  be- concealed  in  Vienna?  And  then,  power- 
less as  I  am  to  do  aught  but  implore  God  to  watch  over  him, 
I  exclaim  in  all  sincerity,  "  May  God  preserve  him  !  " 


lii  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  REMUS  AT. 

Mme.  de  Talleyrand  had  a  terrible  scare.  Her  husband's 
death  was  suddenly  reported  with  considerable  appearance  of 
truth.  One  of  her  brothers  told  her  of  it.  You  can  imagine 
the  state  she  was  in.  It  was  not  until  two  days  later  that  his 
letters  arrived,  but  we  have  not  discovered  what  can  have 
given  rise  to  the  report. 

You  must  have  a  great  number  of  ladies  at  Strasburg. 
I  suppose  Mme.  de  la  Rochefoucauld  made  her  appearance 
there  on  Saturday  or  Sunday.  She  was  very  unwell  when 
she  set  out  on  her  journey,  and  I  doubt  whether  traveling 
can  have  cured  her.  I  know  from  her  doctor  that  she  is 
much  worse  than  she  herself  believes,  and  that  her  spirit, 
rather  than  her  strength,  is  keeping  her  up.  The  unrest  of 
her  life  is  wearing  her  out,  and  it  is  true  that  a  great  deal 
of  strength  is  required  to  resist,  if  I  may  so  say,  the  cease- 
less swing  of  a  Court  life.  For  myself,  mon  ami,  I  feel  that 
I  could  not  endure  anything  so  opposed  to  my  tastes  and 
temperament  if  my  affections  did  not  make  up  for  various 
little  annoyances.  This,  I  believe,  would  always  be  the 
case  with  me ;  in  whatever  position  I  might  be  placed,  my 
heart  must  always  play  a  certain  part  in  every  important 
action  of  my  life.  Unless  this  were  so,  I  should  grudge  the 
sacrifices  imposed  on  me,  and,  in  spite  of  the  good  principles 
in  which  I  have  been  brought  up,  I  should  not,  perhaps,  ful- 
fill all  my  duties  as  I  ought,  although  I  hope  I  would  still' 
try  to  accomplish  them.  Do  not,  however,  draw  any  evil 
conclusions  from  the  confession  I  have  unguardedly  made. 
Have  you  not  made  those  very  duties  delightful  to  me? 
For  my  part,  I  find  nothing  painful  in  the  thought  that  I 
owe  all  and  everything  to  you,  even  my  good  qualities. 


SCARCITY  OF  MONEY.  145 

LXXVI. 

TO   M.    DE   KEMUSAT,    AT   STRASBURG. 

Paris,  24  Brumaire,  Year  XIV. 
{November  15,  1S05.) 

There  is  nothing  new  here.  The  crowd  has  given  np 
the  Bank,  and  assembles  now  at  the  doors  of  the  municipali- 
ties, to  obtain  orders  for  the  payment  of  five-hundred-franc 
notes ;  but  as  nothing  is  so  difficult  as  to  quiet  the  Parisians 
respecting  their  money,  the  crowd  is  so  dense  that  to  reach 
the  door  is  impossible  ;  so  that,  if  one  is  pressed  for  money, 
it  is  better  to  buy  it  at  once.  It  is  cheaper  now.  After 
having  reached  ten  and  even  eleven  per  cent.,  it  is  now  at 
five,  and  it  is  hoped  that  the  good  news  we  are  exjDccting 
will  produce  a  beneficial  effect.  The  scarcity  of  money  is 
much  talked  about,  because  it  inconveniences  everybody 
more  or  less.  For  the  last  month  I  have  become  so  clever 
in  banking  matters,  by  dint  of  hearing  of  bills,  discount, 
etc.,  that  there  was  no  need  to  apologize  for  your  little  dis- 
sertation on  political  economy.  Bertrand,  to  whom  I  read 
it,  says  that  you  talk  like  a  Secretary  for  Commercial  Af- 
fairs !  He  begged  to  be  affectionately  remembered  to  you ; 
he  regrets  your  absence,  and  wishes  you  were  back,  like  all 
our  friends.  You  are  much  desired  at  our  little  "Wednesday 
evenings.  You  know  pretty  well  the  names  of  all  the 
guests ;  I  liave  added  a  few  more  that  accident  has  brought 
across  my  path ;  among  others,  M.  Suard,  who  seems  anxious 
to  meet  you  again.  He  dined  here  yesterday.  These  even- 
ings of  ours  are  rather  pleasant ;  we  say  clever  things  lohen 
we  can  •  we  argue  and  dispute,  as  you  may  imagine,  and  M. 
de  Norvins's  foolish  speeches  are  inexhaustible.  By  the  way, 
I  must  tell  you  that  Constance  won't  hear  of  him,  but  if  you 
promise  to  keep  the  secret,  I  may  inform  you  she  is  rather 
interested  in  a   certain  M.  d'Hcliand  *  whom  Alix  intro- 

*  M.  d'lleliand,  who  died  in  1858,  at  the  age  of  ninety,  did  not  become 
Receiver-General,  nor  did  he  marry  Mile,  dc  Vannoisc.     lie  lived  a  long  time 

7 


146  LETTERS   OF  MADAME  DE  EEMUSAT. 

duced,  and  whom  we  like  very  mucli.  lie  is  an  intimate 
friend  of  M.  de  N'ansonty's,  was  brought  np  at  the  Ecole 
Militaire,  is  a  widower  and  son-indaw  to  Corvisart's  wife. 
Corvisart  presented  him  to  Prince  Louis,  who  promised  he 
would  procure  him  a  Eeceiver-Generalshij).  If  he  obtains 
the  post,  he  will  add  the  salary  to  an  income  of  ten  thousand 
francs  from  landed  projoerty,  and  he  offers  the  whole  to 
Constance.  She  seems  inclined  to  accept  it,  and  so  does 
her  mother.  The  Empress  will  help  us,  you  will  also,  and 
Corvisart  besides ;  thus  we  may  succeed.  He  was  rather 
afraid  of  a  divorced  mother-in-law,  but  the  daughter's  fine 
eyes  have  smoothed  away  all  objections,  and  she  considers 
seven-and-thirty  the  ideal  age  for  a  bridegroom.  You  must 
keep  our  little  secret. 

I  went  to  the  first  performance  of  "  Amalfi,"  which,  not- 
withstanding all  the  fuss  Picard  had  made  over  it,  was  a 
complete  failure.  It  is  a  serious,  tiresome  opera,  and,  with 
the  exception  of  two  or  three  pieces,  very  mediocre.  Your 
Bouffons  are  not  equal  to  this  kind  of  opera ;  they  should 
be  satisfied  with  making  us  laugh.  To  repair  their  mistake 
they  are  preparing  "  11  Finto  Sordo."  I  shall  hear  Mme. 
Cavanatti  on  Wednesday,  and  will  report  on  her  to  the  best 
of  my  ability.  But  if  you  really  want  to  have  good  singers 
here,  you  must  make  up  your  mind  to  pay  them  highly,  or 
else,  people  say,  to  restore  the  amateur  or  the  Olympic 
concerts,  which  were  so  good,  and  did  not  interfere  with 
the  success  of  the  company  in  '89.  There  would  be  a 
subscription  of  five  or  six  louis,  the  singers  would  im- 
prove, and  then,  by  engaging  Marchesi,  Catalani,  Crescenti- 
ni,  etc.,  Paris  would  soon  possess  the  finest  possible  school 

in  Touraiue  in  great  solitude.  His  son,  a  playfellow  of  my  father's,  also  died 
in  1858.  He  was  in  receipt  of  a  retiring  pension  from  the  Ministry  of  Foreign 
Affairs.  Suard,  who  was  born  in  1732  and  died  in  ISIV,  was  editor  for  a  long 
time  of  the  "  Journal  lEtranger  "  and  the  "  Gazette  de  France."  His  writings 
have  been  collected  under  the  title  of  "Melanges  de  Litteraturc,"  five  vols., 
octavo.  He  was  always  considered  to  have  more  talent  for  conversation  than 
talent  strictly  so  called. 


THE  PANGS   OF  SEPARATION.  I47 

of  music.  There  is  a  very  good  company  in  Vienna  just 
now,  who  may,  perhaps,  come  to  us  as  trophies  of  our  con- 
quest. I  wish  it  may  be  so,  for  Italian  music  is  all  the 
fashion,  and  it  would  be  a  good  opportunity  for  calling  it 
French  music. 


LXXYIII. 

TO   M.    DE   REMUSAT,    AT   VIENNA. 

Friday,  8  Frimaire,  Year  XIV. 
{November  29,  1S05.) 

On,  mon  ami,  what  a  separation  !  how  my  heart  is  aching !  * 
Your  two  loving  and  sad  letters  arrived  together ;  I  must 
have  guessed  what  they  contained,  for  I  was  greatly  moved, 
and  not  with  delight,  in  opening  them.  I  burst  into  tears  as 
I  read,  and  I  am  weeping  still.  I  blame  myself  for  letting 
you  see  my  misery,  for  it  will  grieve  you,  but  I  can  not  re- 
strain it,  and  I  feel  it  can  only  increase  until  the  day  that  I 
shall  hear  from  you  of  your  safe  arriv^al  in  Vienna.  How  I 
regret  now  that  I  considered  my  health  so  much  and  did  not 
accompany  the  Empress !  The  journey  could  not  do  me 
more  harm  than  the  anxiety  that  will  cling  to  me  night  and 
day.  .  .  . 

Sunday,  10  Frimaire. 

Forgive  me  for  telling  you  of  my  suilerings.  It  is  almost 
against  my  will  that  I  write  of  them,  but  my  heart  and  my 
head  are  full  of  but  one  idea.  However,  I  am  less  agitated 
than  at  first.  I  have  been  making  inquiries  about  the  roads, 
and  I  am  told  they  are  quite  safe  for  traveling.  But  I  know 
I  shall  be  easier  when  I  hear  you  are  with  the  Emperor.  A 
superstitious  feeling  that  I  can  not  explain,  but  which  is 

*  The  Emperor  had  entered  Vienna  on  22  Brumairc  (November  13),  and  his 
First  Chamberlain  followed  him  thither  with  the  regalia  that  he  had  already 
conveyed  to  Milan,  and  whieh  included  part  of  the  crown  jewels. 


148  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  EEMUSAT. 

deeply  implanted  in  me,  gives  me  a  conviction  tliat  the 
superior  Power  who  guards  him  watches  also  over  those  about 
him,  and  that  no  misfortune  can  happen  near  his  person. 
This  feeling,  which  was  strong  before,  is  now  strengthened 
by  many  proofs,  and,  however  valiant  our  troops,  I  do  not 
doubt  for  an  instant  that  it  is  to  him  we  owe  all  our  recent 
glory. 

You  can  easily  picture  to  yourself  the  great  sensation 
produced  by  om*  victories  and  our  entry  into  Vienna.     There 
had  been  extreme  uneasiness  here.     Evil  rumors,  as  usual, 
were  in  circulation,  and  were  too  easily  believed.     At  last  the 
cannon  was  heard,  and  our  incredible  success  became  known. 
The  very  streets  were  joyful,  and  there   was  a  feeling  of 
French  vanity  which  struck  me,  because,  unfortunately,  it  is 
not  very  usual  among  Parisians.     After  due  enjoyment  of 
the  news,  the  caballing  has  begun  again,  and  for  the  last 
week  politics  have  been  the  order  of  the  day.     I  should  never 
end  if  I  were  to  repeat  to  you  all  that  is  said.     Everybody 
rearranges  Europe  according  to  his  own  idea,  destroys  em- 
pires or  builds  them  up,  makes  peace  or  carries  on  the  war, 
without  troubling  himself  much  as  to  the  eventual  results  of 
his  policy ;  and  it  does  not  need  much  discernment  to  per- 
ceive in  each  individual  the  small  opposing  interests  that 
suggest   these  various  arrangements.     The  Empress's  jour- 
ney occasioned  rumors  of  peace,  while  yours  makes  people 
say  that  the  coronation  ornaments  are  being  taken  to  Vienna ; 
in  one  drawing-room  I  hear  of  a  King  of  Poland,  in  another 
of  a  King  of  Bavaria,  and  so  on.     Then  somebody  comes  to 
see  me,  asks  me  questions,  and  when  I  am  quite  tired  of  in- 
terrogations that  I  have  good  reasons  for  not  answering, 
because  I  really  know  nothing,  I  say,  "  Why  don't  you  leave 
it  all  to  our  ruler,  and  enjoy  at  your  leisure  the  prosperity 
that  his  activity  procures  for  you  ? "  ... 


RUMOBS  OF  PEACE.  UQ 


LXXIX. 

TO   M.    DE   EEMUSAT,    AT    VIENNA. 

Paris,  13  Frimaire,  Year  XIV. 
{December  4,  1S05.) 

Hon  ami,  I  passed  the  day  before  yesterday  alone  with 
my  mother.  No  visits,  no  more  letters  from  Strasburg !  To 
make  uj)  f.or  these  privations  we  had  devoted  our  evening  to 
reading  a  Kttle,  to  talking  of  you,  of  our  children,  of  their 
future  prospects,  and  slightly  against  our  neighbor;  for  you 
know  there  must  always  be  a  little  gossip  to  enliven  women, 
and  even  men,  I  think.  After  that  we  went  to  bed,  and  I 
fell  asleep,  thinking  as  usual  of  your  absence,  and  also  of 
your  journey.  This  morning,  at  seven,  I  was  awoke  with  a 
start  by  the  courier.  lie  seemed  to  make  more  noise  than 
ordinary ;  at  any  rate,  he  rang  a  great  peal !  All  my  house- 
hold were  instantly  on  the  alert,  and  ran  into  my  room,  ex- 
claiming, joyfully,  "  There  is  peace  ! "  I  still  doubted ;  I  re- 
strained their  delight,  in  which  I  did  not  immediately  join, 
but  hastened  to  seek  further  information.  At  last  I  learned 
that  the  announcement  has  been  made  at  the  theatres  that 
proposals  of  peace  have  been  made  by  the  Emperor  of  Aus- 
tria, and  that  negotiations  are  in  progress.  You  may  imagine 
the  general  delight !  You  know  how  soon  our  Parisians  will 
let  themselves  hope,  just  as  easily  as  they  give  way  to  de- 
spair, and  on  this  occasion  they  are  eager  to  believe  in  that 
which  they  wish.  They  are  shouting  "  Peace ! "  *  People 
tell  each  other  the  news  in  the  streets ;  they  embrace :  the 
Emperor  is  coming  back ;  they  inquire  what  route  he  will 
take,  that  they  may  be  there  to  receive  him  !  .  .  . 

I  am  going  to-day  to  the  Luxembourg.  It  will  be  my 
first  time  of  going  out  since  you  began  your  journey.  I  have 
been  a  little  unwell,  and  as,  unfortunately,  the  absence  of  the 

*  All  this  delight  was  caused  by  false  news.     Peace  was  uot  made  until 
later. 


150  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  R^MUSAT. 

Empress  leaves  me  at  full  liberty,  I  make  use  of  it  to  nurse 
myself  when  I  feel  out  of  sorts,  and,  both  from  prudence 
and  from  inclination,  I  remain  at  my  own  fireside.  This 
solitude,  which  I  like,  is  also  very  useful  to  my  finances, 
which  are  straitened,  as  you  know,  and,  notwithstanding  the 
economy  with  which  I  endeavor  to  manage  all  things,  life  in 
this  Paris  of  ours  is  so  dear  that  I  spend  more  than  I  can 
afford.  .  .  . 

Matthieu  Mole  is  bringing  out  a  book,  his  first  attempt ; 
nothing  more,  in  fact,  than  a  short  essay  on  politics  and 
metaphysics,  which  women  will  be  forbidden  to  read  and 
very  few  men  will  appreciate.*  It  is  to  be  accompanied  by 
three  extracts  from  newspapers,  by  MM.  de  Fontanes,  de 
Bonald,  and  Lacretelle.  Mole  does  not  own  to  the  author- 
ship of  the  work,  but  it  is  well  known,  and  he  is  quite  puffed 
up.  If  it  amuses  him,  what  does  it  matter,  as  Werther  says, 
so  long  as  one  is  happy,  whether  one  is  threading  peas  or 
beans  ?  As  for  me,  who  am  threading  nothing  at  present,  I 
am  endeavoring  with  all  my  might  to  dispel  the  ennui  that 
devours  me.  However,  I  am  in  better  spirits,  as  you  may 
perceive,  than  when  I  wrote  to  you  last.  I  revive  at  the 
hope  of  peace ;  my  heart  is  no  longer  so  heavy  when  I  pass 
the  Tuileries.  I  looked  at  the  palace  to-day,  and  told  myseK 
it  was  being  made  ready  for  the  Emperor,  and  I  shed  tears 
of  joy.  When  I  know  that  he  is  there,  and  that  I  see  you 
again  in  my  little  room,  I  shall  have  nothing  to  wish  for. 


LXXX. 

TO   M.   DE   KEMUSAT,  AT   VIENNA. 

Paris,  Wednesday,  SO  Frimaire,  Year  XIV. 
{December  11,  1805.) 

Mon  ami,  yesterday  evening  at  seven  o'clock  Princess 
Louis  sent  for  me  in  haste.     I  went  to  her  immediately  in  a 

*  M.  Mole  published  his  book,  which  is  alluded  to  in  the  Memoirs. 


BATTLE   OF  AUSTERLITZ.  151 

state  of  some  alarm ;  for  you  know  one  is  generally  more 
disposed  to  expect  bad  news  than  good.  On  reacliing  her 
house,  I  found  the  Princess  quite  agitated,  weeping  and 
laughing  by  turns.  Her  first  w^ords,  like  her  first  impres- 
sions, were  of  the  danger  to  which  the  Emperor  had  exposed 
himself.  "  He  commanded  in  person,"  she  exclaimed,  "  and 
completely  defeated  the  two  Emperors!"*  And  we  had 
known  nothing  about  it !  You  can  understand  that  on  hear- 
ing this  I  too  began  to  tremble.  However,  I  gathered  up 
my  strength  to  hear  particulars  of  the  great  day.  I  was  in 
dread  about  M.  de  Nansouty,  but  was  reassured  by  seeing 
that  his  name  does  not  appear  on  Prince  Murat's  list  of 
wounded.  After  having  heard  all  there  was  to  tell,  I  made 
my  escape  and  came  running  back  to  my  mother  to  tell  her 
the  glorious  news ;  then  to  Mme.  Devaines's,  where  I  began 
my  story  over  again ;  then  to  everybody  I  could  think  of, 
and  lastly  to  Mme.  d'Houdetot's,  where  I  found  quite  a 
crowd  of  people.  I  had  scarcely  uttered  a  few  words  ere  I 
was  surrounded,  questioned,  obliged  to  recommence  my  story 
twenty  times  over,  and,  according  as  I  spoke,  astonishment 
and  admiration  increased.  It  was  midnight  when  at  last  I 
returned  home,  worn  out  with  emotion  and  fatigue,  incapable 
of  speaking  another  word,  and  of  any  other  feeling  but  that 
wdth  which  I  naturally  turn  toward  you,  who  must  have  ex- 
perienced the  same  agitation  and  delight  as  I. 

But  only  imagine,  mon  ami,  we  knew  nothing,  and  were 
calmly  awaiting  the  conclusion  of  peace  and  the  return  of 
the  Emperor.  Both  had  been  so  positively  announced  that 
nothing  less  than  such  a  wonderful  victory  as  this,  in  place 
of  his  ardently  desired  return,  could  have  produced  an  effect 
here.  People  were  already  beginning  to  wonder  at  the  eight 
days'  silence.  The  French  are  rather  like  women,  exacting 
and  impatient.  It  is  true  that  the  Emperor  has  spoiled  us  in 
this  campaign,  and  certaiidy  never  was  lover  more  eager  to 
obey  the  wishes  of  his  mistress  than  was  his  Majesty  to  fulfill 

*  The  battle  of  Austerlitz  on  11  Frlmairc  (December  2,  1805). 


152  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  R&MUSAT. 

ours.  "You  wish  for  a  rapid  march?"  "Well,  then,  here 
is  an  army  that  was  at  Boulogne,  and  which  in  three  weeks' 
time  shall  be  in  Germany."  "  You  want  a  stronghold 
taken  ? "  "  Ulm  has  capitulated."  "  You  are  not  satisfied  ? 
you  want  more  victories  ?"  "  Here  they  are ;  here  is  Yienna 
that  you  wished  for,  and  lastly  a  pitched  battle,  in  order  that 
no  kind  of  triumph  may  be  wanting  to  you  ! "  To  all  this 
we  must  add  a  number  of  noble  and  generous  deeds,  and 
words  full  of  grandeur  and  goodness,  so  that  our  hearts  are 
gladdened  by  this  victory  in  addition  to  the  national  pride 
with  which  it  fills  us. 

I  am  expecting  a  letter  from  you  within  the  next  few 
days,  to  tell  me  of  your  arrival  at  Vienna,  and  give  us  the 
details  that  we  wish  for  and  yet  dread.  It  is  impossible  that 
this  victory  can  have  been  attained  without  unavoidable  sac- 
rifices, and  we  have  so  many  friends  in  the  army  who  must 
have  been  exposed  to  danger !  Perfect  joy  is  not  for  this 
world,  and  it  is  we  poor  women  w^ho,  for  the  most  part,  pay 
the  share  due  to  sorrow.  It  really  seems  as  if,  in  the  distri- 
bution of  parts,  you  had  allotted  to  us  that  of  lamenting  the 
misfortunes  which  you  cause,  just  as  the  ancients  appointed 
ofiicial  mourners  in  some  of  their  funeral  ceremonies.  How- 
ever, I  do  not  blame  you  for  such  a  division.  I  love  all  the 
emotions  to  which  we  are  predisposed,  and  although  they 
sometimes  cause  us  the  keenest  grief,  they  procure  us  enjoy- 
ments which  richly  repay  us  for  everything. 

Do  not  expect  me  to  write  to  you  on  any  other  subject. 
I  can  think  of  nothing  but  this  victory.  Yesterday  evening, 
in  the  midst  of  all  our  delight,  we  made  the  remark  that  it 
would  be  impossible  to  bear  much  longer  the  feverish  agita- 
tion in  which  we  have  been  kept  for  two  months.  It  wears 
out,  and,  indeed,  it  spoils  the  rest  of  one's  life.  How  can  one, 
after  such  violent  emotions,  resume  the  daily  tasks  of  life, 
and  return  to  the  circle  of  narrow  ideas  which  are  generated 
and  destroyed,  almost  at  the  same  time,  by  the  life  of  society  ? 
"When  peace  is  made,  what  can  we  talk  of  in  those  drawing- 


AUSTERLITZ.  153 

rooms,  wliere  \vc  now  discuss  such  great  subjects  ?  How 
shall  we  be  able  to  resume  our  frivolous  conversations  ?  The 
Emperor  does  not  know  how  he  educates  us,  and  what  ener^jy 
he  gives  to  our  minds  by  this  succession  of  miraculous  events. 
Men  will  be  in  no  difficulty,  but  you  have  so  arranged  mat- 
ters for  us  that  we  shall  not  know  what  to  do  with  the  en- 
thusiasm that  women  can  seldom  display  with  impunity,  or 
without  making  themselves  ridiculous. 

I  have  just  been  interrupted  by  Charles  Lebrun,*  who 
had  the  kindness  to  come  and  see  me.  He  related  every- 
thing, and  my  admiration  is  increased  on  hearing  the  partic- 
ulars. What  a  splendid  story  it  will  be !  I  wish  I  had  the 
talent  to  write  it!  M.  Lebrun  did  not  see  M.  Nansouty 
after  the  battle  ;  but  he  says  that  had  anything  happened  to 
him  he  would  be  sure  to  know  it.  I  hope  you  will  give  us 
some  news  of  him,  and  also  of  yourself,  mon  ami.  I  hope 
that  you  are  at  Vienna,  but  I  do  not  know.  Oh !  if  peace 
only  follows  on  so  many  victories,  I  assure  you  I  shall  be- 
come a  devote  ;  gratitude  will  put  the  finishing  touch  to  my 
conversion. 

Adieu.  I  think  I  love  vou  more  than  ever  when  I  am 
happy.  It  is  true  that  I  used  to  say  the  same  thing  when 
in  my  melancholy  moods.  The  truth  is  that  my  love  for  you 
mingles  with  my  every  feeling,  to  embellish  or  console. 


LXXXI. 

TO   M.    I)E    KEMUSAT,    AT    VIENNA. 

Paris,  Monday,  27  Friinairc,  Year  A'lV. 
{December  18,  1S05.) 

Is  it  possilde  that  we  shall  soon  meet  again  ?     The  Em- 
peror's return  is  announced  in  all  quarters,  and  T  find  it  diffi- 

*  Charleg  Lebrun,  aide-de-camp  to  the  Emperor,  was  the  son  of  the  Due  do 
rUiisance.  lie  was  subsequently  a  deputy,  then  a  scniitor  under  the  Second 
Empire,  and  Grand  Chancellor  of  the  Legion  of  Honor,     lie  died  in  1859. 


154  LETTERS   OF  MADAME  DE  REMUS  AT. 

cult  to  resist  belief  in  what  I  wish  for  so  much.  If  he  comes, 
I  venture  to  answer  for  it,  he  will  be  received  with  the 
greatest  enthusiasm.  You  can  not  imagine  the  state  of  ex- 
citement in  Paris.  His  praises  are  echoed  on  all  sides,  and 
persons  whom  we  knew  to  be  most  o^jposed  to  him  are 
obliged  to  yield,  and  to  say  with  the  Emperor  of  Russia, 
"  He  is  jDredestined  !  "  On  Saturday  evening  I  accompanied 
Princess  Louis  to  the  theatres,  to  hear  the  bulletins  read. 
They  were  full,  for  the  cannon  had  announced  in  the  morn- 
ing that  there  was  something  new,  and  the  people  listened, 
sympathized,  and  applauded  with  shouts  that  I  never  could 
have  imagined.  Meanwhile  I  was  crying  my  heart  out.  I 
was  so  agitated  that  I  believe,  had  the  Emperor  suddenly 
appeared,  I  should  have  thrown  myself  into  his  arms,  though 
afterward  I  must  have  asked  pardon  at  his  feet.  I  w^ent  out 
to  supper  afterward.  I  was  questioned,  of  course,  but  I 
knew  the  bulletin  by  heart  and  repeated  it  continually,  and 
I  felt  proud,  and  at  the  same  time  moved,  while  repeating 
to  certain  persons  its  simple  and  penetrating  words  with  a 
feeling  of  ownership  which  can  be  better  understood  than 
described.  ... 


Lxxxn. 

TO    M.    DE    REMUSAT,    AT    VIENNA, 

Paris,  8  Niv6se,  Year  XIV. 
{December  29,  1805.) 

Every  one  here  is  still  talking  of  the  Emperor's  return, 
yet,  I  know  not  why,  I  dare  not  hope  for  it  so  soon.  In 
your  last  letters  you  say  nothing  of  it ;  the  newspapers  are 
full  of  little  alarming  paragraphs,  and  then,  as  the  Parisians 
can  never  remain  long  of  the  same  mind,  they  are  beginning 
to  spread  fresh  doubts  as  to  peace.  May  the  English  be 
accursed  if  they  contrive  further  comjjlicatious,  and  may  the 


OPERATIC  FETE.  155 

evil  they  try  to  do  us  recoil  on  their  own  heads !  I  am  not 
surprised  at  your  emotion  on  again  meeting  the  Emperor. 
I  understood  and  ahnost  felt  it.  I  think  he  will  be  pleased 
with  the  Parisians  on  his  return.  It  is  true  that  he  will  be 
able  to  say  with  Tancred  : 

"Mon  triompbe  est  parfait,  sans  doute  il  m'est  Men  dd."  * 

I  wrote  to  Maherault  on  the  subject  of  your  letter,  but  as 
he  is  really  very  unwell,  and  has  not  strength  to  transact  any 
business,  I  sent  for  some  of  the  actors  of  the  Comedie,  and 
suggested  to  them  to  exert  themselves  a  little.  They  seemed 
full  of  "  Gaston  et  Bayard,"  f  and,  after  a  reperusal  of  the 
work,  I  am  quite  of  their  opinion.  The  play,  although  a 
middling  one,  is  full  of  appropriate  allusions  in  almost  every 
line.  Moreover,  it  is  national.  The  part  of  Bayard  is  a  fine 
one ;  on  the  whole,  I  think  it  a  good  selection,  and  Desfau- 
cherets  is  altogether  of  my  opinion.  They  are  studying  it, 
therefore,  and  will  study  "  Manlius  "  %  afterward,  so  as  to  act 
it  in  January.  Duval  *  has  written  a  very  pretty  play,  which 
has  been  accepted,  and  will  also  be  put  on  the  stage ;  and 
then  (pray  answer  all  this  immediately)  this  is  what  is  going 
on.  The  Opera  is  preparing  a  fete  which,  between  our- 
selves, I  think  rather  extraordinary.  They  purpose  putting 
the  Tuileries  and  the  Carrousel  and  the  Emperor  himself  on 
the  stage  ;  that  is  to  say,  an  actor  representing  him  will 

*  The  line  is  not  accurately  quoted  in  the  text,  and  it  is  a  mistake  to  at- 
tribute it  to  Tancred,  who  says  nothing  like  it,  for  he  is  unfortunate  all  through. 
But  at  the  beginning  of  scene  5  of  Act,  Amenaide  exclaims : 

"  Mon  bonhcur  est  au  comble !  helas !  il  m'est  bien  du." 

f  The  tragedy  of  "  Gaston  et  Bayard,"  in  five  act?,  in  verse,  by  M.  de  Belloy, 
who  was  born  in  1727  and  died  in  1775,  had  been  performed  for  the  first  time 
in  1771. 

:|:  The  tragedy  of  "Manlius,"  by  Antoine  Arnault,  who  was  born  in  1706  and 
died  in  1836,  had  been  performed  during  the  Revolution. 

*  This  comedy  of  Duval's  is  one  of  the  best  he  ever  wrote.  It  was  called  at 
that  time  "  Une  Etourdcrie  de  Charles  II."  It  has  since  been  performed  under 
the  title  of  "  La  Jeunesse  de  Henri  IV." 


156  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  El^MUSAT. 

make  liis  trinmpliant  entry,  his  car  drawn  by  the  poj)nlace 
of  Paris.  This  fete  is  under  the  management  of  M.  Esme- 
nard  ;  *  yet,  if  I  dared,  I  would  say  that  it  would  be  better 
to  produce  a  play  in  which,  the  application  being  less  obvi- 
ous, the  public  might  voluntarily  seize  on  the  allusions. 
Praise  in  the  other  case  seems  to  savor  of  jElattery.  At  any 
rate,  Bouilly  is  now  writing  a  piece  in  which  Mile.  Contat 
is  to  act.  It  is  on  the  subject  of  the  recovered  colors.  They 
came  to  ask  me  whether,  in  my  opinion,  the  piece  could  be 
represented  at  your  theatre.  I  was  puzzled,  or  rather,  I  was 
not,  for  I  said  I  could  not  give  an  opinion  on  the  matter. 
What  do  you  think  of  it  ?  If  the  subject  were  suitably 
treated,  would  you  give  permission  ?  Would  the  Emperor 
allow  it  ?     Answer  me  as  soon  as  possible. 

While  on  the  subject  of  theatres,  let  me  give  you  an  ac- 
count of  another.  A  few  days  ago  I  saw  Legouve's  f  trag- 
edy, "  La  Mort  de  Henri  IV,"  and  was  highly  pleased  with 
it.  I  was  greatly  prejudiced  against  the  work,  but  my  pre- 
judices yielded  to  the  tears  I  shed.  The  role  of  Henri 
Quatre  is  really  noble  and  pathetic,  that  of  Marie  is  deeply 
impassioned,  and  Sully's  is  very  fine.  What  I  particularly 
liked  was  a  speech  of  the  King's,  in  which  he  reveals  his 
designs  against  Austria — it  is  an  exact  history  of  this  last 
campaign.  The  consj^irator  Epernon  is  well  drawn ;  he 
takes  advantage  of  a  momentary  weakness  of  the  Queen, 
who  is  ambitious  and  jealous  in  the  extreme,  to  obtain  from 
her  a  kind  of  consent,  which  she  promj^tly  retracts ;  so  that, 
although  guilty,  she  is  not  altogether  odious.     All  the  tradi- 

*  Esmcnard,  born  in  IT 70,  died  in  1816,  had  just  published  his  poem  of 
"  La  Navigation."  He  was  successively  a  journalist,  the  head  of  the  Bureau 
dcs  Theatres,  Secretary  of  the  Government  of  La  Martinique,  Consul  at  St. 
Thomas,  and  didactic  poet.  He  was  exiled  in  1811,  notwithstanding  his  produc- 
tion of  "  Trajan  "  at  the  Opera,  in  honor  of  the  Emperor's  return. 

f  M.  Gabriel  Legouve,  who  was  born  in  1764  and  died  in  1813,  was  the  au- 
thor of  "  La  Mort  d'Abel,"  of  "  Etcocle,"  and  of  "  La  Mort  de  Ilein-i  IV,"  and 
of  a  poem  on  the  merit  of  women.  lie  was  father  to  M.  Ernest  Legouve,  who, 
like  himself,  was  a  most  distinguished  member  of  the  French  Academy. 


NEW   YEAR'S  GIFTS.  157 

tioiicary  speeches  of  Henry  lY  are  given,  even  to  the  j^oule 
au  2>ot ;  his  last  conversation  with  Sully  is  repeated,  word 
for  word.  In  short,  I  was  moved  to  tears,  and  I  think  that, 
despite  a  few  faults,  it  is  a  remarkable  work,  and  so  admira- 
bly contrived  that  its  allusions  are  invariably  comprehensible 
without  being  dragged  in,  and  that  it  would  be  impossible, 
while  applauding  Henry  lY,  not  to  think  instantly  of  the 
Emperor.  Legouve  is  most  anxious  that  you  should  read 
his  work,  and  I  venture  to  hope  you  will  be  of  my  opinion. 

I  have  written  you  quite  a  long  account  of  the  theatres, 
but  I  have  not  yet  finished.  I  must  also  tell  you  of  a  per- 
formance that  took  place  on  Saturday,  at  Mtne.  Pastoret's. 
The  play  represented  was  "  L'Avocat  Patelin,"  *  and  the  actors 
were  our  children,  ft  was  quite  a  success.  Gustavo  did  re- 
markably well  as  the  avocat,  and  Charles  as  Agnelet  You 
would  have  been  delighted,  and  would  have  shared  our  ma- 
ternal emotions.  This  kind  of  amusement  is  very  good  for 
Charles;  it  makes  him  speak  up  and  clearly,  and  then  it 
amuses  him,  and  that — may  I  say  it  ? — is  so  much  gained  on 
the  enemy. 

Next  Wednesday  will  be  New  Year's  Day,  and  I  sliall 
pass  it  in  sadness  away  from  you.  Paris  is  not  gay,  in  spite 
of  the  return  of  January,  and  the  tradesmen  dare  not  give 
way  to  the  flights  of  tlieir  imagination.  As  for  myself,  I 
am  disposed  to  grumble,  because  at  this  time  of  year  I  feel 
more  than  ever  the  insufficiency  of  my  means  for  all  the 
presents  I  should  like  to  make,  and  I  have  the  greatest  difii- 
culty  in  adapting  my  New  Year's  gifts  to  the  state  of  my 
finances.  I  can  recollect  when  the  coming  of  this  time  of 
the  year  was  a  great  delight  to  me,  but  that  is  already  a 
pleasure  of  the  past,  as  are  so  many  others  that  end  with  our 
youth,  Happy  are  we  if  we  retain  the  feelings  of  our  hearts 
in  undiminished  strength  ! 

*  "  L'Avocat  Patelin  "  is  a  comedy  by  Breys  and  Palaprat,  taken  from  an 
old  farce  of  the  Middle  Ages. 


158  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  BEMUSAT. 


LXXXIII. 

TO   M.    DE    KEMUSAT,    AT    VIENNA. 

Paris,  Tuesday,  10  Nivosc,  Year  XIV. 
{December  31, 1805.) 

Mon  ami,  I  wish  you  a  liappy  ISTew  Year,  and  I  wish 
that  you  may  pass  it  with  me,  in  order  that  mine  may  be 
happy  also.  My  heart  is  very  heavy  that  you  should  be  so 
far  away ;  I  had  hoped  for  your  presence  at  this  season,  and 
I  am  greatly  depressed.  ... 

The  children  are  well,  and  I  hope  Charles  will  get  through 
the  winter  without  any  drawbacks ;  iie  looks  in  excellent 
condition.  I  am  busied  with  his  dress  to-day,  because  he  has 
received  an  invitation,  in  due  form,  from  Prince  Napoleon,* 
to  a  little  fete,  beginning  at  six  o'clock.  There  are  to  be 
marionettes,  a  magic  lantern,  and  a  lottery  of  toys. 

After  this  entertainment,  which,  as  you  may  suppose,  will 
be  over  at  an  early  hour,  I  intend  to  pay  a  few  visits,  and  I 
shall  probably  pass  my  week  in  that  tiresome  occupation. 
I  must  relinquish  the  laziness  which  your  absence  and  the 
want  of  occupation  have  rendered  dear  to  me.  .  .  . 

Eleven  p.  m. 

I  left  my  letter  this  morning  to  attend  to  my  New  Tear's 
gifts.  I  received  very  pretty  presents  from  my  mother,  my 
sister,  and  a  few  friends,  and  had,  therefore,  to  reciprocate. 
I  made  a  handsome  present  to  Corvisart,  and  gifts  to  all  my 
household,  so  that  this  1st  of  January  has  cost  me  dear,  and 
at  the  same  time  I  am  full  of  regret  that  I  could  not  give 
something  to  all  those  whom  I  love.  This  is  why  I  sorrow- 
fully repeat  the  usual  burden  of  my  song :  "  We  shall  never 
be  rich,  for  we  spend  more  than  we  have." 

I   went   afterward  to   tlie   Princess  Louis's,  before  her 

*  Queen  Hortense's  eldest  son,  who  died  a  few  months  later. 


NEW  YEAR'S  DAY.  159 

usual  reception  hour.  She  had  organized  a  little  fete  at  six 
o'clock.  It  was  a  very  joretty  party,  full  of  the  childish 
gayety  which  is  unclouded  only  at  that  age  when  it  can  not  be 
appreciated,  and  3'our  son  was  thought  very  handsome ;  he 
behaved  nicely,  and  I  was  quite  pleased.  I  had  feared  lest 
his  superiority  of  age  should  make  him  unwilling  to  yield  the 
first  place  to  the  little  princes  in  all  the  games,  and  had  given 
liim  a  little  lecture  accordingly.  He  quite  understood  the 
situation,  and  his  manners  were  a  pretty  mixture  of  deference 
and  ease.  There  was  a  magic  lantern,  marionettes,  a  little 
supper,  and  a  most  successful  lottery  for  playthings.  Tlien 
my  son  and  I  took  our  leave,  and  I  came  home  to  my 
mother.  Just  at  present  she  is  at  supper  at  Mme.  Davaines's, 
and  I,  in  my  dressing-gown  by  the  fire,  am  Meriting  to  my 
heart's  beloved,  and  assuring  him,  at  this  season,  of  the  love 
that  is  the  very  happiness  of  my  life.  Oh !  mon  ami,  tins, 
which  makes  absence  so  painful,  is  also  a  very  great  delight, 
and  for  nothing  in  the  world  would  I  give  up  the  emotions 
now  filling  my  heart,  unless,  indeed,  for  those  I  should  feci  if 
I  could  now  hold  you  in  my  arms.  Time  is  flying,  youtli 
will  soon  escape  me,  but  I  shall  let  it  go  without  dread  and 
almost  without  regret,  because  you  have  convinced  me  that  I 
shall  always  be  equally  dear  to  you.  When  I  cast  a  glance 
over  that  portion  of  my  life  that  we  have  already  traversed 
together ;  when  I  say  to  myself,  "  What !  ten  years  already  !  " 
I  always  feel  impelled  to  add,  Yes,  ten  years  of  happiness 
are  gone ;  but,  thanks  to  the  dearest  of  husbands,  all  that 
remain  to  me  will  be  happy  too,  because  happiness,  when 
built  up  on  heartfelt  affection,  is  independent  of  the  caprices 
of  fortune." 

It  is  painful  to  me  to  quit  this  subject,  in  order  to  tell 
you  of  other  matters,  and  if  I  yielded  to  my  own  inclination, 
I  should  amuse  myself  by  seeking  new  ways  of  assuring  you 
of  my  affection,  and  of  my  gratitude  toward  the  guide,  the 
support,  the  charm,  the  delight  of  my  whole  life  ;  but  I  must, 
for  a  moment,  leave  all  this.     I  at^siire  you  that,  if  you  are 


160  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  REMUSAT. 

likely  to  remain  absent  mucli  longer,  you  must  take  some 
steps  about  the  administration  of  the  Theatre,  for  Maherault 
can  no  longer  manage  it.  The  poor  man  is  in  a  pitiable 
state;  he  can  scarcely  drag  himself  along,  his  speech  is 
greatly  affected,  and  there  is  a  corpse-like  odor  about  him 
which  is  horrible.  The  doctors  do  not  expect  he  will  live 
long  enough  to  get  to  some  watering-place  when  the  season 
beffins.  How  can  he "  in  such  a  state  attend  to  the  actors  ? 
They  are  left  to  themselves,  and  everything  is  in  a  state  of 
confusion.  Discord  prevents  any  variety  in  the  repertory ; 
Mile.  Contat  will  neither  act  herself  nor  let  others  act ;  Mile. 
Haucourt  does  not  appear ;  Talma  says  he  is  still  weak  and 
ill ;  there  are  no  receipts  except  when  the  "  Templiers," 
which  always  draws,  is  given.  Four  or  five  tragedies  have 
been  accepted.  Some  of  these  are  said  to  be  good,  but  they 
can  not  be  produced,  as  their  turn  does  not  come  until  after 
that  of  some  pieces  that,  either  from  weakness  or  want  of 
judgment,  had  been  accepted,  and  which  for  the  last  eight 
months  nobody  will  act  or  even  study  ;  and  so  everything  is 
at  a  standstill.  A  kind  of  deputation  came  to  me  the  day 
before  yesterday,  inquiring  for  the  date  of  your  return  as  that 
of  the  end  of  all  their  woes,  and  complaining  that  it  is  im- 
possible for  Maherault  to  manage  the  Theatre.  They  all  beg 
that,  if  possible,  you  will  tell  the  Emperor  of  the  state  to 
which  they  are  reduced  by  the  number  of  minor  theatres  in 
Paris,  and  really  they  have  no  hope  but  in  what  you  may  be 
able  to  say.  I  doubt  whether  the  Emperor,  in  the  midst  of 
his  great  occupations,  can  find  time  to  look  into  their  griev- 
ances ;  but  I  can  foresee  that  you  will  have  enough  to  do  on 
your  return  in  setting  all  tliis  machinery  in  order.  I  pointed 
out  to  them  that  this  year  ought  not  to  be  judged  by  ordi- 
nary rules,  for  it  was  only  natural  that  the  theatres  should 
have  suffered  greatly  from  the  general  depression ;  that  the 
only  way  of  meeting  their  ill-fortune  would  have  been  to 
redouble  their  exertions ;  and  that  at  the  present  time,  in 
order  to  conciliate  his  Majesty,  they  should   prepare  some 


THEATRICAL  AFFAIRS.  IGl 

amusement  for  him  on  his  return,  and  carefullj  revise  their 
repertory,  immediately  on  his  arrivah  I  ventured  to  tell 
Maherault  to  say,  as  if  from  you,  that  "  Antiochus  Epiphane  " 
must  be  played  within  a  fortnight.  It  is  a  terribly  stupid 
piece,  that  has  stopped  everything  for  the  last  nine  months. 
They  promised  me  to  push  forward  "  Gaston,"  which  has 
been  authorized  by  the  police,  at  the  same  rate ;  also  "  Man- 
lius  et  Catilina,"  Duval's  charming  comedy,  and  another 
comedy,  I  don't  know  what,  in  five  acts.  You  see  what  I 
have  done ;  but  as  I  dare  not  put  myself  too  forward,  I  can 
not  answer  for  it  that  there  will  be  no  difiiculties,  and  I,  like 
your  actors,  wish  for  you  with  my  whole  soul.  The  other 
theatres  are  not  more  flourishing.  The  Opera  has  made  ten 
or  fifteen  thousand  francs  less  than  the  Porte  St.  Martin. 
For  two  months  there  has  been  no  division  of  profits  at  the 
Feydeau,  and  the  Bouifons  are  in  great  need  of  the  recruits 
you  are  procuring  for  them.  "  La  Principessa  d'Amalfi  "  and 
the  "  Finto  Sordo  "  were  failures,  and  did  them  harm.  You 
see  that  it  is  in  the  order  of  things  that  amusements  should 
not  flourish  in  your  absence.  But  Paris  is  only  waiting  for 
her  master's  return  to  be  brilliant,  and  I  to  be  happy.  The 
newsmongers  would  have  it  that  he  arrived  last  night  at  the 
Tuileries,  and  were  lookinfr  for  him  throuo:li  the  windows.  I 
dare  not  again  ask  you  what  you  either  do  not  know  or  may 
not  tell.  I  long  for  you  ;  I  hope  that  you  will  come,  but  I 
dare  not  expect  you ;  I  pray  to  God ;  I  try  to  be  brave  and 
to  make  a  virtue  of  necessity ;  but  I  have  made  little  progress 
in  this  direction,  and  I  am  sometimes  so  discouraged  and 
impatient  that  I  should  be  angry  with  myself  only  that  I  find 
relief  in  solitary  tears. 


162  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  REMUSAT. 

LXXXIY. 

TO   M.    DE   REMUSAT,    AT   VIENNA.* 

Paris,  Monday,  January  6,  1S06.  f 

You,  who  know  me  so  well  and  so  completely  share  my 
every  feeling,  can  easily  imagine  my  emotion  on  reading  the 
words,  "  /  shall  soon  see  you  again.'''     I  have  read  them  over 
a  hundred  times  ;  their  sweet  soimd  rings  in  my  ears,  follow- 
ing me  everywhere,  blending  with  all  my  thoughts,  and  giv- 
ing joy  to  the  hours  that  are  still  to  be  passed  away  from  you. 
At  last  happiness  is  returning  to  me !     What  a  delight  to  see 
the  Emperor  again,  and  how  keenly  will  it  be  felt  in  Paris  ! 
The  splendid  campaign,  the  glorious  peace,  his   Majesty's 
prompt   return— all  are  wonderful,  and  to  me,  who  love  to 
trace  the  workings  of  Providence  in  the  events  of  life,  it  is 
delightful  to  see  the  hand  of  God  in  all  these  things.     And 
yet,  my  dearest,  when  you  are  restored  to  me,  when  once 
more  I  shall  hold  you  in  my  arms,  I  shall  whisper  to  you  that 
this  painful  separation  has  been   cheered  by  many  sweet 
emotions  ;  that  your  loving  punctuality  in  writing  to  me,  the 
deep  affection  expressed  in  all  your  letters,  nay,  even  the 
tears  they  made  me  shed — all  these  things  possessed  a  charm 
which  I  shall  never  forget,  and  which  binds  us  only  the 
more  closely  together.     I  hold  the  first  place  in  your  heart ; 
you  tell  me  so  continually !     I  believe  it,  I  shall  always  be- 
lieve it,  and  in  this  lies  my  haj^piness.     But  you  too  may  feel 
assm-ed  that  I  can  never  love  aught  else  as  I  love  you,  the 
friend,  the  guide,  the  Joy  of  my  life  ;  and  I  have  the  advan- 

*  The  new  year,  1806,  opens  on  the  same  state  of  affairs  as  that  which  existed 
at  the  end  of  1805.  The  Peace  of  Presburg  had  been  made  on  December  26th. 
But  on  January  1st  the  Emperor  was  still  in  Germany,  at  Munich.  He  did 
not  return  to  Paris  until  the  24th  of  the  same  month. 

f  By  a  Senatus-Consultum  of  21  Fructidor,  Year  XIII  (September  8,  1805), 
the  decrees  of  the  Convention  respecting  the  Kepublican  calendar  had  been  re- 
pealed, and  the  Gregorian  calendar  resumed,  dating  from  January  1,  1806. 


LEBRUN  FIND  ARE.  1G3 

tage    over  you  that   these  were   the   first   feelings   of   mj 
lieart. 

Tlie  return  of  the  Emperor  will  be  the  signal  for  some 
splendid  fetes.  The  Opera  is  preparing,  and  so  is  the  city. 
I  hope  the  performances  will  be  in  a  truly  national  spirit. 
One  of  them,  and  it  will,  perhaps,  be  most  gratifying  to  his 
Majesty,  is  a  comedy  which  we  are  going  to  perform  in  his 
family  circle,  if  I  may  use  the  expression.  Princess  Louis 
has  kindly  given  me  a  part  to  act  with  her.  I  am  deeply 
touched  at  such  goodness,  though  my  affection  at  least 
deserved  it.  It  is  a  very  nice  role ;  there  are  phrases  in  it 
that  I  like,  because  they  express  my  own  feelings,  and  if 
timidity  and  emotion  do  not  hinder  me,  I  think  I  shall  act  it 
pretty  well.  The  Princess  will  act  as  she  always  does.  The 
piece  is  clever,  so  I  think  I  can  answer  for  its  success.  But 
I  am  unable  to  say  as  much  for  your  Frangais.  Maherault  is 
in  such  a  state  that  he  can  do  nothing ;  he  tries  his  best,  but 
he  is  very  ill,  and  your  Comedie  people  take  advantage  of 
your  absence  and  his  illness.  I  have  done  my  best,  but  you 
alone  can  remedy  all  the  existing  confusion  and  disorganiza- 
tion. It  would  be  to  their  own  interest  to  make  more  effort, 
but  on  that  stage,  as  on  a  larger  one,  the  actors  prefer  grum- 
bling at  fate  and  indulging  their  vanity,  which  is  ruining  them. 
They  quarrel,  abuse  each  other,  and  hinder  everything.  I 
tremble  at  the  complaints,  the  demands,  and  the  discontent 
you  will  have  to  encounter  on  your  return. 

Meanwhile  I  have  strongly  insisted  on  "  Gaston,*'  "  Man- 
lius,"  and  "  Catilina  "  being  put  on  the  stage  this  month.  I 
inclose  a  programme  that  was  brought  me  by  Dazincourt. 
He  and  his  colleagues  desire  that  the  Emperor  should  be 
feted  by  the  Theatre  Frangais  also.  Lebrun*  undertakes 
the  ode.     Just  read  over  the  programme,  and  write  a  line  if 

*  Lebrun,  who  was  called  Lehrun  Phidarc,  born  in  1729,  died  in  1807,  was 
at  that  time  greatly  celebrated  as  a  lyric  poet,  and  with  more  reason  as  a  writer 
of  epigrams.  His  hundred  and  forty  odes  are  forgotten,  but  a  few  of  his  six 
hundred  epigrams  have  survived  him. 


164  LETTERS   OF  MADAME  LE  REMUSAT. 

you  approve  of  it,  or  send  it  back,  I  am  ignorant  whether 
actors  can  rightly  take  upon  themselves  thus  to  apjDlaud  in 
public  the  sovereign  of  the  nation.  You  are  a  better  judge 
than  I,  and  you  will  decide  the  point. 

I  am  busy  this  morning  with  preparations  for  a  fete  of 
another  kind,  of  the  success  of  which  I  do  not  feel  so  sure. 
Duval  has  requested  permission  to  read  me  a  play  that  he 
has  written  for  the  Frangais,  and  which  is  said  to  be  very 
clever.  I  have  invited  about  thirty  persons  to  hear  it,  who 
may  give  me  more  trouble  than  my  guests  of  yesterday,  al- 
though they  will  probably  not  upset  my  chairs  and  tables. 
But  talking  of  guests,  you  will  soon  return,  and  I  must  give 
you  an  account  of  some, new  acquaintances  that  I  have  made, 
partly  by  my  own  wish,  and  partly  because  your  wife's  Wed- 
nesdays are  beginning  to  be  talked  of,  and  people  seek  for 
introductions  to  me.  First  of  all,  Fontanes,  for  whom  you 
know  I  have  a  weakness  ;  Monge,  who  has  long  had  a  weak- 
ness for  me ;  Carrion-Nisas,  whom  I  find  amusing,  and  can 
not  resist  because  he  speaks  so  highly  of  you ;  I^orvins,  who 
makes  us  laugh;  your  friend  M.  Camille  Tournon,  who  is 
extremely  pleasant ;  M,  Petitot,  with  whom  we  have  re- 
newed our  acquaintance ;  *  Legouve  occasionally ;  a  little 
man  named  M.  de  Lagarde,  who  is  husband  to  Mile.  Eilliet, 
and  is  agreeable  •  besides.  These  are  the  only  names  I  re- 
member at  present.  I  can  see  from  here  the  little  sarcastic 
smile  I  know  so  well — "  So  my  wife  is  setting  up  as  a  hel 
esjyrit  I "  By  no  means,  monsieur ;  but  I  let  any  one  else  who 
likes  be  clever,  and  when  my  friends  choose  to  come,  they 
meet  my  mother — who  is  a  strong  attraction  to  my  salon — a 
good  fire,  tea,  and  philosophers.  I  listen  with  equal  pleasure 
to  Fontanes's  preaching  and  Morellet's  sarcasms,  and  as  toler- 

*  Monge,  a  member  of  the  Institute  and  a  senator,  was,  as  every  one  knows, 
the  inventor  of  Descriptive  Geometry.  He  died  in  1818,  aged  sixty-seven.  Car- 
rion-Xisas,  an  ex-tribune,  was  an  officer  in  a  cavalry  regiment,  and  a  writer  of 
tragedies;  born  in  1767,  died  in  1812.  Petitot,  Inspector-General  of  the  Uni- 
versity, and  also  a  tragic  poet. 


PRINCE  EUGENE'^  MARRIAGE.  165 

ance  is  not  the  fashionable  virtue  at  present  witli  either  party, 
the  tolerance  of  my  salon  procures  me  friends. 

But  all  this  would  be  much  better  if  I  had  more  money  ; 
for,  begging  pardon  of  idealists,  the  metal  that  is  so  greatly 
despised,  and  yet  so  sought  after,  forms  more  than  half  the 
attractions  of  a  hostess,  and  if  to  all  my  own  I  could  add  the 
very  superior  ones  of  a  good  table,  1  should  be  really  cele- 
brated, and  might  double  the  number  of  my  friends.  Such 
a  life  is,  between  ourselves,  that  which  would  please  me  best. 
My  health  is  not  good  enough  for  the  bustle  of  the  world, 
and  complete  repose  of  body,  with  some  emotion  for  the 
heart,  and  exercise  for  the  brain,  would  suit  me  exactly. 
But  I  hope  you  will  scarcely  have  time  to  read  all  this  rub- 
bish. You  are  now  on  your  road  home,  I  hope  and  think, 
and  in  five  or  six  days  perhaps.  .  .  .  Adieu.  I  am  expect- 
ing you,  and  this  expectation  is  itself  a  happiness. 


LXXXY. 

TO   M.  DE   KElVnJSAT,    AT   A'lENNA. 

Paris,  January  10,  ISOG. 

So  your  homeward  journey  is  again  deferred.  I  went 
yesterday  to  Princess  Louis's,  to  rehearse  the  little  play  we 
are  going  to  perform  before  the  Emperor.  I  was  in  high 
spirits ;  I  had  received  your  Munich  letter,  and  everything 
seemed  to  announce  your  speedy  return,  when  Mme.  Maret 
made  her  appearance  with  a  letter  from  her  husband,  telling 
her  of  Prince  Eugene's  marriage,*  and  of  the  return  of  the 
Court  at  the  end  of  the  month.  Mon  ami,  tears  filled  my 
eyes,  and  I  came  back  sorrowfully  to  my  solitude,  which  for 
the  last  few  days  had  been  made  so  bright  by  the  hope  of 

*  Prince  Eugene  dc  Bcauharnais,  Archchancellor  of  State  and  Viceroy  of 
Italy,  married  Princess  Augusta  Amelia,  daughter  of  the  King  of  Bavaria. 


IGG  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  EEMU8AT. 

seeing  you.  Princess  Louis  is  grieved  by  her  absence  from 
her  brother's  wedding.  She  told  me  with  tears  of  the  ob- 
stacles that  had  prevented  her  from  going  to  Munich.  She 
hides  her  grief  courageously,  but  is  distressed,  and  if  her 
brother  does  not  come  to  Paris  for  a  while  she  will  be  per- 
fectly miserable. 

Meanwhile  we  continue  the  preparations  for  our  fetes. 
The  Opera  will  be  brilliant,  and  the  Comedie  Frangaise  is 
also  at  work,  and  will  put  "  Gaston,"  "  Manlius,"  and  "  Ca- 
tilina  "  on  the  stage  in  a  month's  time.  But,  unfortunately, 
Mile,  rieury  has  seized  upon  the  best  parts  in  each  play, 
which  will  both  delay  and  spoil  them.  It  would  be  neces- 
sary that  you  should  give  orders  for  the  distribution  of  parts. 
Mile.  Duchesnois  was  willing  to  act  in  "  Gaston,"  but  Ma- 
herault  is  ill,  and  I  have  no  authority.  Bouilly  has  written 
a  play  in  one  act  on  the  anecdote  of  the  recovered  colors, 
which  has  been  accepted ;  it  is  said  to  be  clever.  Finally, 
we  too  are  acting  plays.  While  awaiting  the  return  of  the 
Court,  we  are  rehearsing  day  and  night,  with  an  extraordinary 
mingling  of  sentiment  and  nonsense.  We  shed  tears  when 
we  think  how  great  will  be  our  emotion,  and  we  laugh  at  the 
difficulty  your  Chamberlains  find  in  singing  in  tune.  M. 
d'Aubusson  especially  is  excessively  amusing;  his  voice  is 
absolutely  false,  but  he  insists  on  singing,  quarrels  with  Gras- 
set,  whom  he  wants  to  accompany  him  by  striking  all  his 
noiQ^  first,  and  then,  after  a  great  fuss,  he  begins  again,  and 
is  no  nearer  the  tune  than  before.  Happily,  the  actors'  feel- 
ings are  more  in  harmony  than  their  voices,  and  that  unison 
will  cover  a  multitude  of  sins. 

I  have  just  received  a  most  extraordinary  letter  from  Mme. 

de  S .     She  says  that  she  has  been  informed  that  the 

Emperor  is  coming  back,  but  that  the  Empress  will  remain 
at  Munich ;  that  her  husband  importunes  her  to  come  to 
Paris,  as  he  desires  she  should  show  special  devotion  to  the 
Emperor.  She  adds  that  she  has  manifold  reasons  for  wish- 
ing to  remain  in  retirement,  and  begs  me  to  write  her  a  letter 


COUNT  RUMFORD.  167 

advising  Lcr  to  do  so,  sucli  as  slie  can  show  to  liim.     She  says 

M.  de  S will  probably  be  annoyed  with  me  for  giving 

her  such  advice,  but  that  she  is  in  extreme  need  of  it.  I  re- 
plied, telling  her  simply  of  the  delay  in  the  Emperor's  return, 
and  ended  my  letter  by  expressing  a  great  wish  to  see  her 
again.  I  can  understand  why  her  husband  wishes  to  put  her 
forward.  She  is  his  best  qualification,  and  his  surest  road  to 
success. 

I  dined  at  Fontanes's  the  day  before  yesterday.  The 
Archchancellor  was  there  and  a  number  of  legislators.  I 
compHnientcd  the  President  on  a  charming  article  of  his  in 
the  "  Journal  des  Debats,"  praising  Mathieu's  book.*  AVe 
had  some  conversation  about  the  speech  he  has  to  make  on 
the  opening  of  the  Corps  Legislatif.  He  confided  to  me  that 
his  subject  frightened  him,  that  it  would  be  impossible  to 
pronounce  a  panegyric  worthy  of  the  occasion,  and  that  he 
shrank  from  coming  to  any  decision.  I  quite  believe  him, 
for  to  praise  duly  is  more  difficult  than  people  think,  and  I 
fear  that  our  writers  will  prove  their  inferiority  in  that  respect. 

I  am  requested  to  ask  you  to  make  inquiries  at  Munich 
about  Count  Eumford.  I  heard  such  an  extraordinary  ac- 
count of  him  that  I  am  curious  to  know  the  truth.  It  would 
seem,  if  I  may  believe  my  informant,  that  this  "  man  of  sci- 
ence" is  a  mere  philosophic  charlatan,  without  fortune  or 
position,  and  mixed  up  with  several  unpleasant  stories.  In 
fact,  he  is  said  to  have  no  recommendation  but  that  of  being 
subject  every  five  or  six  months  to  a  certain  malady  that  shall 
be  nameless,  but  which  has  apparently  not  frightened  the 
(pretty)  widow  of  five  and  forty.  My  mother  wants  you  to 
get  full  particulars,  and  desires  me  to  tell  you  that  since  the 
wedding  a  recipe  for  economical  marriages  has  been  discov- 
ered.    They  are  called  Rumford  inarriages.\ 

*  M.  de  Fontanc8,  the  President  of  the  Corps  Legislatif,  had  written  an 
article  on  M.  M0I6,  who  was  generally  known  in  society  at  that  time  by  his 
Christian  name  of  Mathieu. 

f  The  allusion  here  is  to  cheap  soups  and  Rumford  stoves.     The  rumors  then 


168  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  E^MUSAT. 

LXXXVI. 

TO   M.    DE    EEMUSAT,    AT    MAYENCE.* 

AuTEPiL,  September  25,  1S06. 

So  it  is  mj  turn  now  to  give  you  household  news,  and 
yours  to  leave  home !  What  a  melancholy  way  of  spending 
one's  time,  and  I  could  say  a  great  deal  on  the  subject  if  I 
had  not  made  up  my  mind  to  dismiss  it  altogether.  We 
must  bow  our  heads  in  submission,  and  hope  for  better 
things  in  the  future — for  a  time  of  repose  that  will  have 
cost  us  dear,  but  that  will  console  me,  as  I  have  already  told 
you,  for  the  loss  of  youth.  If  only  your  health  does  not 
suffer  from  this  new  journey  !  That  anxiety  is  always  be- 
foi"e  me.  It  seems  to  me  that  you  were  scarcely  strong 
enough  for  all  the  trouble  and  cares  that  must  fall  upon  you. 
Can  you  have  undertaken  a  task  beyond  your  strength? 
Have  you  a  second  time  tried  to  battle  against  illness  ?  You 
know  what  it  cost  you  once  before.  These  are  the  anxious 
thoughts  that  pursue  me  since  your  departure,  without 
counting  bad  roads  and  all  the  rest  of  it,  so  that  all  my 
days  are  passed  in  gloom. 

I  went  yesterday  to  take  leave  at  St.  Cloud.     I  found 

prevalent  regarding  that  learned  man  may  have  been  exaggerated.  The  marriage, 
however,  ended  in  a  separation,  as  may  be  seen  in  the  Memoirs,  and  Count  Rum- 
ford  was  obliged  to  leave  Paris  and  reside  in  Germany  on  an  allowance  made  by 
his  wife.     lie  died  long  before  she  did. 

*  There  is,  as  the  reader  will  perceive,  an  interval  of  six  months  between 
this  letter  and  the  preceding  one.  My  grandmother  had  passed  part  of  the 
summer  of  1806  at  Cauterets,  while  her  husband,  children,  mother,  and  sister, 
and  Mme.  de  Grasse  and  her  son,  had  taken  up  their  abode  in  a  hired  house  at 
Auteuil.  The  letters  she  wrote  during  her  stay  in  the  Pyrenees  have  not  been 
preserved.  She  came  to  Auteuil  from  Cauterets  at  the  end  of  August  or  be- 
ginning of  September,  and  very  few  days  afterward,  the  departure  of  the  Em- 
peror again  separated  her  from  her  husband,  who  left  for  Mayence  on  Septem- 
ber 21st  or  22d.  The  Emperor  set  out  on  the  2oth  in  order  to  undertake  the 
Prussian  campaign,  which  was  not  concluded  until  July,  1807. 


LEAVE-TAKINGS.  169 

every  one  sad  and  silent ;  people  were  coming  and  going, 
and  I  looked  on  at  their  preparations  and  thought  of  you. 
I  had  breakfasted  on  the  previous  day  with  the  Empress. 
In  the  midst  of  all  the  confusion  at  the  palace,  I  contrived 
to  catch  M.  de  Talleyrand  for  a  moment.  lie  spoke  of  you, 
and  thinks  it  well  that  you  have  gone ;  tried  to  prove  to  me 
that  I  ought  to  be  delighted  ;  says  you  must  take  care  of 
yourself,  and  is  pleased  at  the  thouglit  of  finding  you  there  ; 
in  fact,  he  thoroughly  likes  you.  I  thanked  him ;  but,  al- 
though I  was  glad,  tears  filled  my  eyes,  Alas  !  mon  ami, 
of  how  little  account  are  the  feelings  of  the  heart  in  the 
business  of  life,  and  yet  our  true  happiness  is  derived  from 
afiection  alone !  As  I  pen  these  words,  I  feel  I  must  think 
of  my  children  in  order  to  be  able  to  endure  the  burden 
that  oppresses  me.  After  parting  from  M.  de  Talleyrand, 
I  saw  Fouche,  who  was  very  kind,  too,  according  to  his  own 
fashion,  and  then  the  Grand  Equerry,*  who  spoke  of  you. 
This  sad  but  precious  subject  of  conversation  was  the  only 
one  on  M^hich  I  could  speak,  yet  it  made  me  weep,  and  most 
of  the  persons  who  were  there  would  have  been  unable  to 
enter  into  my  feelings.  I  do  not  understand  why,  under 
such  circumstances,  people  fancy  themselves  obliged  to  look 
pleased  at  what  distresses  them.  Of  course,  we  must  do  our 
duty,  but  who  could  require  us  to  rejoice  at  being  separated  ? 

The  Emperor  began  his  journey  last  night,  the  Empress 
seeming  hapjjy  at  the  prospect  of  seeing  her  daughter.  She 
told  me  she  was  glad  to  think  you  would  be  there.  I  must 
confess  I  was  two  or  three  times  greatly  tempted  to  ask  leave 
to  join  her,  but  my  discretion  held  me  back.  .  .  . 

Mile,  de  Lugay  was  married  this  morning ;  after  the  cere- 
mony they  left  Paris  for  St.  Gratien.  M.  de  Lugay  said 
that  he  hoped  it  was  of  good  augury  for  his  daughter,  since 
it  was  a  place  that  had  witnessed  many  happy  marriages.f 

*  M.  de  Caulaiacourt. 

f  M.  de  Lu9ay  was  Chamberlain  to  the  Emperor.     His  daughter  married 
Philippe  de  Segur,  son  of  M.  de  S6gur,  member  of  the  French  Academy,  and 
8 


170  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  RJEMU8AT. 

Tlie  name  of  St.  Gratien  and  all  the  memories  it  includes 
impressed  me  in  the  midst  of  that  splendid  salon.  We  passed 
many  happy  days  in  that  little  place,  and  I  never  thought  it 
so  ugly.  M.  de  Luyay  calls  it  a  Icennel,  but  I  think  we  were 
very  comfortable  there — what  say  you  ? 

The  impression  at  Court  yesterday  was  that  the  Em- 
peror's return  would  be  s]3eedy,  and  that  of  Paris  is  that  we 
shall  have  no  war.  We  can  all  rely  on  the  activity  and  skill 
of  the  Emperor,  but  I  do  wish  they  were  not  so  often  called 
upon.  If  my  new-born  religious  feeling  did  not  forbid  me 
to  curse  my  neighbor,  I  think  I  should  devote  much  impre- 
cation to  the  King  of  Prussia.    .    .    . 


LXXXYII. 

TO   M.    DE   REMUSAT,   AT   MAYENCE. 

AuTEUiL,  Smidai/,  Septetnber  SS,  1S06. 

I  AM  still  without  a  word  from  you,  and,  although  I  am 
well  aware  that  it  is  almost  impossible  I  could  have  received 
a  letter  as  yet,  still  I  am  full  of  sadness  and  anxiety.   ... 

My  thoughts  are  of  you  in  this  quiet  little  Auteuil,  which 
I  should  like  better  if  we  could  live  in  greater  solitude ;  but 
I  must  admit  that  my  mother  is  right,  and  that  it  is  unfair  of 
Paris  idlers  to  come  and  disturb  us  at  every  hour  of  the  day. 
We  are  overwhelmed  with  visitors,  and  we  must  escape  to 
Paris  in  order  to  live  more  to  ourselves  and  with  greater 
economy.  However  strange  it  may  seem,  it  is  nevertheless 
true  that  I  shall  not  be  able  to  carry  out  my  intended  reforms 
until  my  return  home.  However,  as  Charles  is  benefiting  by 
the  fine  weather  and  country  air,  we  purpose  remaining 
here  until  October  15th.    Then  I  shall  disclose  my  new  regu- 

himself  married  to  Mile.  Dagucsseau.     General  Philippe  de  Segur,  member  of 
the  French  Academy,  died  in  1873. 


A    VISITOR.  171 

lations,  on  which  I  am  now  hard  at  work.  I  am  full  of  ad- 
miration, I  assure  you,  for  those  who  undertake  to  lessen 
abuses  in  the  financial  department  of  a  nation ;  for,  though  I 
began  only  three  days  ago  to  wage  war  on  those  that  have 
crept  into  my  little  kingdom,  I  already  feel  sick  of  the  com- 
plaints, quarreling,  and  grumblings  that  come  before  me, 
and  I  am  often  tempted  to  wish  that  I  were  rich  enough  to 
let  myself  be  robbed  without  noticing  it.  But  as  this  is  far 
from  being  the  case,  I  make  up  my  mind  to  severity,  and  am 
l^ecomino:  a  rci'ular  Barbe  Marbois.* 

1  saw  Louis  de  Yergennes  this  morning.  He  begged  me 
to  ask  you  to  find  out  whether  it  is  true  that  the  Emperor 
intends  to  increase  the  number  of  his  orderlies ;  and  if  so, 
whether  it  would  be  possible  for  you  to  present  an  urgent 
application  on  behalf  of  his  son,  who  is  longing  to  serve  in 
the  army,  and  you  can  imagine  how  gladly  he  would  serve 
under  the  very  eyes  of  his  Majesty.  If  you  could  obtain  this 
favor  for  him,  he  would  be  deeply  grateful. 

Yesterday  morning,  at  nine  o'clock,  who  should  walk  into 
our  little  salo7i^  booted,  curled,  and  brushed  up,  but  the  Min- 
ister of  Finance.f  He  had  been  riding  a  fine  Arab  in  the 
Bois  de  Boulogne,  the  gift  of  the  Emperor.  I  wanted  him 
to  make  me  a  present  of  his  horse,  but  he  could  not  agree  to 
that.  He  was  very  pleasant,  and  promised  to  find  a  place  for 
M.  de  Pradine,  Alix  was  rather  comforted  by  his  visit ;  for 
he  still  hopes  that  the  King  of  Prussia  may  act  with  com- 
mon-sense, and  the  Queen  with  prudence.  Many  wagers  are 
laid  among  our  acquaintances  on  this  subject,  but  there  is 
only  one  opinion  as  to  our  success. 

*  Barbo  Marbois  was  Minister  of  the  Treasury.  He  fell  into  disgrace  with 
the  Emperor  in  this  same  year  (1806).  Under  the  Restoration  he  was  First 
President  of  the  Cour  dcs  Comptcs. 

f  M.  Gaudin,  the  Minister  of  Finance,  retained  the  costume  of  the  ancicn 
regime.  lie  wore  his  hair  powdered  d  Poiseau  royal,  and  always  rode  with  high 
boots,  a  three-cornered  hat,  and  an  equerry  by  his  side.  lie  was  an  old  friend 
of  Mnie.  dc  Vergcnnes.  There  were,  at  that  period,  two  financial  ministers,  one 
of  whom  was  called  Minister  of  the  Treasury. 


172  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  RilMUSAT. 

If  you  hear  anytliing  of  M.  dc  Nansouty,  pray  let  us 
know.  His  poor  wife  is  very  unhappy.  Really,  we  are  too 
good  as  wives,  and  it  is  very  foolish  to  be  so  attached  to  the 
absent.  But  why  are  both  of  you  such  kind  and  good  hus- 
bands? I  met  one  yesterday  who  takes  no  such  pride  in 
conjugal  fidelity.  It  was  the  young  Maitre  des  Requetes. 
He  paid  us  a  long  visit,  and  made  himself  very  agreeable ; 
but,  between  ourselves,  I  was  rather  shocked  at  the  double 
meaning  of  the  conversation  that  took  place  on  the  subject 
that  is  now  engrossing  him.  People  make  things  easier  for 
him  by  pretending  only  to  see  the  ridiculous  side ;  but  is  not 
this  excusing  the  wrong- doing?  This  world  is  a  strange 
place,  and  even  the  best-conducted  women —  But  I  will 
not  conclude  my  remark,  and  I  leave  it  to  be  finished  by 
your  upright  and  conjugal  mind. 

Your  boys  are  in  good  health.  Charles  was  in  the  saloii 
this  morning,  and  his  grandmother  is  enchanted  with  his 
clever  remarks.  I  am  trying  to  get  him  to  work  harder,  and 
although  he  does  not  like  it,  I  must  give  him  due  praise  for 
his  docility  and  obedience.  There  is  a  sweetness  in  his  dis- 
position which  he  inherits  from  I  know  whom,  and  which  I 
hope  he  will  not  lose  in  the  world.  Adieu  ;  I  hear  more 
visitors,  and  must  lay  aside  my  letter.  My  friends  come  to 
congratulate  me  on  my  return  from  Cauterets^  but  I  can  not 
receive  them  as  gayly  as  at  first ;  they  should  have  come 
then,  for  my  joy  has  not  endured,  my  sorrow  has  quickly  re- 
turned.    Such  is  life. 


LXXXYIII. 


TO   M.    DE   EEMUSxVr,    AT   MAYENCE. 

AuTETJiL,  October  4, 1806. 
...  I  IMAGINE,  as  I  am  writing  this,  that  you  are  en- 
joying perfect  tranquillity,  and  that  the  Emperor  has  already 


"X^  FAUX  BONUOMMEy  I73 

left  Maycncc.  We  find  it  absolutely  impossible  to  believe 
in  war;  new  bets  are  made  every  day,  and  couriers  con- 
stantly arrive,  whom  nobody  sees,  but  of  whom  every  one  is 
talking.  What  I  like  about  Auteuil  is  that  we  only  get  the 
truth  here,  and  are  not  told  of  false  reports  until  they  have 
been  contradicted.  Alix  has  heard  from  her  husband ;  he 
has  not  yet  marched,  and  seems  to  know  nothing,  or,  perhaps, 
chooses  to  say  nothing  ;  she  goes  back  to  Paris  on  Saturday. 
Our  friends  are  teasing  us  to  return,  but  we  shall  remain 
here  until  the  15th,  and  the  fine  weather  and  Charles's  good 
pleasure  shall  decide  the  day  of  departure.  The  season  is 
still  quite  beautiful — may  it  be  the  same  at  Mayence  !  Take 
advantage  of  it  to  walk  about ;  see  a  good  deal  of  M.  do  Tal- 
leyrand, who  is  such  a  capital  talker,  and  who  promised  me 
to  take  care  of  you.  Enjoy  yourself,  in  fact,  as  much  as  you 
can,  and  in  the  midst  of  it  all  write  as  often  as  possible  to 
your  poor  Claire. 

Friday. 

Everything  I  have  heard  since  yesterday  tends  to  prove 
you  must  never  again  jump  out  of  a  carriage  when  it  is  go- 
ing fast.  M.  de  Kerkado  was  killed  by  so  doing ;  M.  de 
Leon  *  severely  hurt ;  in  fact,  I  shudder  at  all  the  accidents  I 
have  heard  of.  Take  pity  on  me  and  care  of  yourself,  I 
implore  you.  I  saw  Mme.  de  Yannoise  and  M.  Lemercier 
yesterday  evening.  The  latter  is  greatly  occupied  with  his 
"Faux  Bonhomme,"  and  is  made  anxious  by  Fleury's  ill- 
ness, which  continues.  Out  of  regard  for  him,  he  will  not 
take  his  part  from  him,  and  he  does  well,  for  this  sustains 
Floury 's  hopefulness,  which  is  especially  desirable.  Con- 
stance de  Vannoise  seems  reconciled  to  her  lot.  The  bride- 
groom is  absent ;  she  is  busy  with  dresses  and  finery,  and 
thinks  marriage  all  that  is  pleasant.     Mme.  de  Vannoise,  on 

*  M.  dc  L<;on  bocamc  afterward  Due  de  Rohan.  He  was  Chamberlain  to 
the  Emperor,  and  died  in  1816.  Ho  was  father  of  that  duke  who  wad  Carduial- 
Archbisbop  of  Bcaan9on,  and  who  died  in  1833. 


174  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  E^MUSAT. 

the  contrary,  trembles  and  grieves,  and  finds  the  thought  of 
separation  insupportable.*  .  .  . 

I  dined  yesterday  at  the  Archchancellor's.  Several  jjer- 
sons  asked  after  you  in  a  fashion  that  Mine,  de  Sevigne 
describes  and  says  she  used  not  to  take  the  trouble  to  reply 
to,  but  left  the  inquirers  to  their  ignorance  and  indiffer- 
ence. When  you  and  I  arc  separated,  I  am  so  depressed,  the 
least  trifle  hurts  me  so  much,  that  I  carefully  avoid  speaking 
of  you  to  persons  whom  I  know  feel  no  real  interest  in  us. 
Their  coldness  would  hurt  and  vex  me.  But  I  feel  a  true 
happiness  in  meeting  friendly  people  who  question  me  kindly 
about  you.  I  got  on  capitally  yesterday  with  M.  de  Lava- 
lette,  who  seems  to  like  you  ;  we  had  a  good  deal  of  conversa- 
tion during  the  long  dinner  at  the  Archchancellor's.  I  begged 
him  to  come  and  see  me,  and  I  hope  he  will ;  I  think  him 
most  agreeable.  .  .  . 

How  bright  my  mother  is !  how  delightful  I  find  her 
companionship  in  daily  life  !  The  more  I  know  of  the 
world,  the  more  do  I  admire  her  character,  her  evenness  of 
temper,  her  sweet  reasonableness,  and  unquenchable  gayety. 
Latterly  she  has  been,  as  well  as  I,  anxious  about  your  health  ; 
but,  when  she  sees  me  in  tears,  she  forgets  herself  in  order 
to  cheer  me,  and  makes  me  laugh.  I  revealed  a  great  truth 
to  her  yesterday,  viz.,  that  I  love  her  more  and  more  every 
day.  Marriage  is  a  critical  moment  for  mothers  and  daugh- 
ters. All  the  new  blessings  that  then  become  ours,  the  dis- 
appointment which  comes  from  maternal  jealousy,  the  readi- 
ness of  husbands  to  spoil  us  at  first — all  contribute  to  dis- 
turbance, to  separation^  to  draw  us  apart,  and  at  such  a  mo- 
ment it  is  almost  impossible  that  the  mother  should  not  be 
a  little  unjust,  and  the  best  of  daughters  a  little  ungrateful. 
But  if  both  are  really  kind-hearted  and  loving,  time  effaces  the 
little  grievances  caused  or  excused  by  excessive  affection. 
The  young  wife  advances  on  her  life-journey,  she  looks  around 

*  This  marriage  did  not  take  plaec. 


''LES  nORACESy  175 

her,  she  encounters  disappointment,  she  needs  a  true  friend, 
and  in  ^vhom  can  slie  lind  one  if  not  in  her  mother?  Thus 
the  dithculty  ought  to  end,  oftener  than  it  docs,  with  a  little 
indulgence  on  tlie  one  side  and  some  gratitude  on  the  other. 
.  .  .  13ut  I  am  interrupted !     Crescentini  *  wants  to  see  me. 

Monday. 

I  was  not  able  to  resume  my  letter  all  yesterday.  After 
receiving  Crescentini,  whom  I  thought  changed  in  appear- 
ance, we  went  to  Paris  to  see  "  Les  Horaces."  I  was  much 
pleased,  first  with  Corneille,  who  is  an  old  love  of  mine,  and 
then  with  Leclerc,t  the  new  actor.  He  played  the  father 
with  spirit  and  dignity,  copying  Saint-Prix  a  little  too  much, 
perhaps,  but  he  uttered  the  famous  "  quHl  mourut "  in  such 
a  way  as  to  produce  a  great  sensation,  and  was  immensely 
applauded.  Your  nephew  tells  me  that  lie  is  rejected  by 
the  Comedie ;  this  is  a  pity,  I  think.  M.  Saint-Eugene 
seemed  to  me  very  second-rate.  Mile.  Georges  has  improved, 
I  think,  and  Mile.  Duchesnois  acted  well  as  Camille,  with  the 
exception  of  a  little  drawling  occasionally.  On  the  whole, 
it  was  a  fine  performance ;  I  even  think  that  the  study  of 
comedy  that  Lafond  has  been  obliged  to  make  has  dimin- 
ished the  heaviness  of  his  style.  I  should  not  have  ventured 
to  rely  on  my  own  judgment  in  this,  because  "  au  des  mon- 
ta^nes  ou  n^  est  pas  difficile^^ ;  but  this  is  your  son's  opinion, 
60  there  is  nothing  more  to  be  said. 

After  the  performance,  we  returned  to  our  little  hermit- 
age, and  this  morning  Charles  and  I  have  taken  a  long  walk. 
We  began  by  going  through  the  Bois  de  Boulogne  as  far  as 

*  Girolamo  Crescentini  was  the  Italian  singer  whom  the  Emperor  detained  in 
Pans,  by  force,  from  180G  to  1812.  He  was  a  soprano  after  the  fashion  of  the 
day.     He  was  born  in  1769,  and  died  at  Naples  in  1846. 

f  Leclerc  was,  at  the  beginning  of  the  present  century,  a  somewhat  successful 
actor  at  the  Th6&trc  Fran9ais,  though  his  style  was  rather  monotonous.  lie 
succeeded  especially  in  the  role  of  the  older  Horace,  and  in  that  of  Mithridates. 
Saint-Eugene,  who  played  Curiacc,  has  left  no  great  repututiou.  Lafond  played 
the  younger  Horace. 


176  LETTERS  OP  MADAME  DE  REMUSAT. 

Boulogne  itself,  and  thence  Ave  took  the  St.  Cloud  road .  and 
the  Point  du  Jour,  and  returned  to  Auteuil  by  the  Avenue 
de  Paris.  "We  had  great  conversation  all  the  time.  Your 
boy  asked  me  questions  about  the  Ee volution,  and  especially 
about  the  Emperor.  I  told  him  the  story  of  the  Italian  cam- 
paign, of  the  campaign  in  Egypt,  of  the  Emperor's  return 
to  France,  of  his  wars  and  victories.  He  was  deeply  inter- 
ested, and  when  I  had  ended,  he  said,  "  Mamma,  that  is  like 
one  of  '  Plutarch's  Lives.' "  I  advised  him  to  work  hard, 
so  as  to  be  able  to  write  it  when  grown  up,  and  he  was 
delighted  at  the  idea. 

Adieu.     I  will  end  my  letter  with  your  son's  words ;  I 
could  not  improve  upon  them. 


XC. 

TO   M.    DE   EEMCSAT,  AT   IHATENCE. 

Paeis,  October  16,  1806. 

I  LEFT  Auteuil  yesterday  morning,  and  am  alone  in  our 
apartment,  which  recalls  your  presence  so  vividly,  and  re- 
news the  keen  pain  of  our  too  frequent  separation.  While 
establishing  myself  in  my  room  and  putting  everything  in 
order,  I  came  across  your  letters,  and  set  about  arranging 
them.  It  pained  me  to  read  over  those  of  last  year.  Alas ! 
mon  ami,  it  was  the  same  state  of  things,  the  same  distance 
between  us,  the  same  anxieties.  All  these  are  now  renewed, 
and  it  is  thus  that  w^e  pass  our  life.  Just  then  the  courier 
arrived  with  your  letter,  which,  like  all  I  receive  from  you, 
is  kind  and  loving ;  it  moved  me,  but  not  so  painfully  as 
those  I  was  reading  again,  and  I  said  to  myself,  "  It  is  also 
the  same  affection."  Eetain  all  those  feelinj^s  which  are  so 
necessary  to  my  happiness,  and  which  are  infinitely  precious 
to  me.  The  great  events  of  which  we  are  spectators  make 
time  fly  so  swiftly,  that  we  possess,  as  it  were,  a  premature 


STUDIES.  177 

experience  tliat  ages  iis  beyond  our  years.  We  Iiave  tliere- 
fore  lost  taste  for  all  the  frivolous  amusements  of  the  world, 
which  turn  us  aside,  without  any  real  solace,  from  the  oares 
by  which  we  are  harassed,  and  it  is,  in  truth,  in  the  affec- 
tions of  the  heart  only  that  we  can  find  consolation  and 
happiness.  These  are  my  sentiments,  man  ami.  The  new 
sorrows  of  the  present  year,  your  absence,  and  Alix's  discour- 
agement, grieve  and  absorb  me,  so  that  I  feel  little  inclination 
for  society,  and,  unless  winter  brings  some  change  in  things, 
I  foresee  that  my  life  will  be  one  of  seclusion.  Charles  will 
be  the  gainer,  and  I  promise  you  he  shall  work  hard  ;  it  shall 
not  be  my  fault  if  his  progress  in  Latin  and  Greek  does  not 
surpass  yours  in  German,  I  am  bestirring  myself  for  fear 
that  when  you  return,  quite  proud  of  your  new  accomplish- 
ment, you  may  want  to  impart  it  to  your  son.  But  I  warn 
you  that  I  will  have  nothing  to  do  with  German  ;  it  is  quite 
enough  for  me  to  bewilder  my  brains  over  crabbed  Greek 
characters,  without  toiling  over  an  inharmonious,  wretched, 
Teutonic  language  that  I  do  not  care  about  in  the  least. 

Meanwhile,  before  seriously  resuming  our  lessons,  I  am 
going  this  morning  with  Charles  to  Sannois,  and  intend  re- 
maining there  until  Sunday.  Mme.  d'Houdetot  insisted 
upon  this,  and  mamma  thought  I  had  better  take  Charles 
with  me.  Gustave  is  going  on  as  well  as  possible.*  Dubois 
says  that  his  leg  was  properly  set ;  he  is  not  feverish,  Avill 
not  be  lame ;  it  is  as  favorable  a  fracture  as  can  be,  but  he 
must  remain  lying  on  his  back,  without  stirring,  for  a  month, 
and  this  enforced  inaction,  for  him  especially,  is  a  real  ill- 
ness. It  will  be  a  great  privation  for  Charles  to  be  separated 
from  his  friend,  and,  in  order  to  make  up  for  it,  I  am  going 
to  make  him  acquainted  with  the  Princess  de  Carignan's  son. 
lie  is  educated  at  his  mother's  house,  passes  the  day  in  the 
house,  and  I  should  rather  like  him  as  a  companion  for  my 
boy,  more  especially  as  his  tutor  is  said  to  be  an  estimable 
man. 

*  Gustave  dc  Grassc  had  broken  his  kg  at  Autcuil. 


178  LETTERS   OF  MADAME  DE  REMU8AT. 

On  arriving  here  I  heard  that  Mme.  de  Souza  is  so  seri- 
ously ill  as  to  cause  some  anxiety  to  her  friends.  Her  hus- 
band is  at  the  Hague,  but  is  coming  here.  He  has  given  up 
Portugal,  and  intends  settling  in  I*aris.  All  the  old  bache- 
lors in  the  neighborhood  are  delighted,  and  Bertrand  will  be 
quite  at  home.  He  begs  me  to  give  you  his  kindest  remem- 
brances. The  stir  and  animation  abroad  only  increase  his 
love  of  quiet,  and  he  sticks  to  his  arm-chair  more  than  ever. 
He  is  the  only  person  I  have  seen  as  yet,  and  I  expect  he 
will  be  our  most  constant  guest.  All  the  others  have  taken 
flight.  Cousin  Pasquier  is  engrossed  by  his  Jews  and  his 
commissions,  and  now  that  he  can  only  give  us  a  divided  at- 
tention, we  will  have  nothing  more  to  say  to  him.  Poor 
I^orvins  has  gone,  as  yon  know.  You  will  see  him  probably, 
and  hear  his  adventures ;  he  enters  the  army  at  thirty-nine, 
gives  up  his  family,  his  friends,  and  all  his  habits,  and  is  not 
sure,  after  all,  that  he  is  doing  a  wise  thing.  I  told  him  he 
would  come  back  to  us  a  cure  I  Notwithstanding  my  little 
jest,  our  parting  was  pathetic  ;  he  was  greatly  moved  on  tak- 
ing leave  of  us.  His  future  plans  are  as  heretofore;  he 
wanted  to  manifest  his  zeal,  but  does  not  intend  to  remain 
always  in  the  army.  He  begged  that  you  would  name  him 
to  the  Empress,  and  hopes  to  have  the  honor  of  being  pre- 
sented to  her  at  Mayence. 


XCI. 

TO   M.    DE  EEMD8AT,    AT   MAYENCE. 

Paris,  Friday,  October  £6, 1806. 

I  WEOTE  to  you  twice  in  the  course  of  yesterday,  mon 
ami ;  both  my  letters  will,  no  doubt,  give  you  pain,  but  I 
could  not  measure  my  words  at  first.*     I  feel  quite  as  much 

*  Letters  were  constantly  lost  on  the  way,  and  this  caused  confusion,  annoy- 
ance, complaints,  and  suspicions.     I  have  omitted  most  of  those  in  which  these 


REPROACHES.  170 

hurt  to  day,  perhaps  even  more  so,  but  I  am  less  excited,  and 
will  curtail  my  reproaches.  Besides,  it  is  impossible  that  you 
should  not  be  conscious  of  the  pain  you  have  inflicted,  and  if 
absence  has  not  changed  him  I  love,  I  am  sure  that  regret 
will  soon  follow  on  the  injury  he  has  done  me.  Oh !  my  be- 
loved, remember  that  in  such  a  union  as  ours,  which  time 
only  serves  to  draw  closer,  the  slightest  appearance  of  doubt 
must  wound  the  sensitiveness  inseparable  from  such  an  affec- 
tion as  mine  for  you.  After  passing  ten  years  and  more  with 
no  other  thought  than  you,  with  your  image  present  in  all 
my  life's  memories,  and  in  all  its  future  hopes,  how  can  I 
endure  the  suspicions  revealed  by  your  cruel  words  ?  AYere 
I  in  your  place  I  should,  no  doubt,  be  anxious  too,  but  in  a 
different  M'ay,  and  I  should  express  my  anxiety  differently. 
Whatever  my  sufferings,  I  could  never  insult  those  I  love 
and  esteem,  and  it  is  thus  that  you  should  love  me  ;  nay,  I 
will  even  say  it  is  thus  that  I  deserve  to  be  loved.  Forgive 
me  for  returning  to  the  subject,  but  I  suffered  so  terribly 
yesterday !  To-day  I  have  a  grief  which  is  entirely  my  own  ; 
for  I  have  to  complain  of  you,  whom  I  love  exclusively,  and 
whom  I  fondly  thought  superior  to  all  the  weakness  of  or- 
dinary men.  But  I  see  that  occasionally  you  are  all  alike, 
and  I  am  daily  more  and  more  convinced  that  your  absence 
is  my  greatest  misfortune,  and  your  presence,  cruel  one,  the 
greatest  joy  of  my  life. 

I  am  sending  this  to-day  through  M.  de  Talleyrand ;  to- 
morrow I  shall  write  by  Deschamps.  I  shall  try  every  pos- 
sible means,  and  tlien,  if  my  letters  are  lost,  I  shall  leave 
house  and  children  and  come  to  you,  for  I  can  not  endure  the 
idea  of  your  uneasiness.  I  suppose  that,  like  last  year,  my 
letters  are  sent   to  headquarters,  and   yet  M.  de  Lavalette 

feelings  are  expressed  on  mistaken  grounds  and  are  disclaimed  in  the  next.  I 
also  suppress  or  shorten  those  that  are  only  a  repetition  of  letters  that  are 
thought  to  be  lost.  The  reproaches  contained  in  this  one  arc  in  reply  to  com- 
l)laints  that  would  certainly  have  been  very  unjust  had  nothing  been  lost  or  de- 
layed. 


180  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  REMUSAT. 

assures  me  that  orders  have  been  given  at  Majence  for  open- 
ing the  bags  there  and  carefully  sorting  the  letters.  And 
yet  you  receive  none,  and  you  are  alarmed  and  you  accuse 
me,  and  I  sympathize  with  your  grief,  which  I  feel  keenly, 
and  suifer  from  your  injustice!  What  a  life  it  is!  So  full 
of  troubles  and  difficulties,  when  it  might  be  passed  so  peace- 
fully !  I  feel  weary  and  worn  out  with  mine  !  And  then  to 
the  secret  sorrow  which  you  inflict  are  added  a  thousand 
alarms  about  the  military  engagements  that  have  taken  place 
since  the  14th,*  of  which  we  know  nothing,  I  am  sur- 
rounded by  weeping  mothers,  sisters,  kinswomen.  Alix  has 
not  had  one  moment's  peace,  and  one  dares  not  give  way  to 
joy  and  admiration  of  all  these  miraculous  victories  without 
knowing  at  what  price  they  have  been  bought.  I  was  told 
yesterday  that  Aimery  de  Fezensac  is  wounded.  But  as  this 
report  has  not  been  as  yet  corroborated,  it  has  been  kept  from 
the  two  mothers.  Philippe  de  Segur  was  wounded,  but  he 
writes  the  news  himself,  and  this  shows  that  his  wounds 
must  be  slight.  We  hear  nothing  of  my  brother-in-law,  and 
we  ought  to  look  upon  silence  as  good  news,  if  one  were 
guided  by  reason  on  subjects  so  near  and  dear.  But  reason, 
mon  ami^  is  seldom  made  use  of  by  anxious  hearts,  and  you 
wdio  used  to  pride  yourself  on  it,  even  you —  But  I  have 
finished  with  that  subject,  and  will  say  no  more. 


XCII. 

TO  M.  DE  EEMUSAT,  AT  MAYENOE. 

Paris,  Odobei'  27,  1S06. 

I  MUST  still  be  sad  and  anxious  until  I  know  you  have 
received  my  letters  and  are  at  ease  about  me  and  Charles.  It 
will  not  be  my  fault  if  none  reach  Mayence.     I  send  them  in 

*  The  battle  of  Jena  had  been  won  on  October  14th,  but  no  particulars  had  as 
yet  reached  Paris. 


TEE  BULLETINS.  181 

every  possible  way.  From  what  M.  de  Lavalette  tells  me,  it 
is  atMayence  itself  that  the  mischief  lies;  you  might  there- 
fore prevent  it,  probably,  and  spare  yourself  anxiety  and  me 
real  misery.  But  let  us  drop  the  subject ;  by  the  time  you 
receive  this  all  misunderstanding  will  be  over. 

The  arrival  of  the  bulletins  quite  made  up  for  the  long 
gilence  that  had  given  rise  to  many  gloomy  conjectures. 
They  are  as  fine  pages  of  history  as  have  ever  been  written 
in  any,  and  that  will  efface  all  former  achievements.  I  have 
also  seen  several  private  letters  giving  miraculous  accounts 
of  personal  deeds.  Such  daring,  although  sometimes  rash,  is 
always  fortunate,  and  such  coolness  in  the  midst  of  danger, 
such  wise  forethought,  such  prompt  determination,  evoke 
feelings  of  admiration  which  seem  as  though  they  could 
never  be  surpassed,  and  yet  are  continually  renewed.  The 
bulletins  were  read  out  at  the  theatres  and  produced  a  great 
sensation.  Talma  read  them  at  the  Fran§ais.  lie  read  very 
well,  simply  and  quickly ;  for,  the  principal  events  once 
known,  the  public  does  not  care  for  military  details,  or  posi- 
tions in  a  country  they  scarcely  know.  The  effect  was  not 
so  good  at  Feydeau.  Chesnard  *  read  pompously  ;  he  put  on 
an  affected  voice,  and  made  it  more  affected  when  he  came 
to  the  list  of  the  killed.  As  he  was  naming  the  colonels, 
some  lady,  either  a  relation  or  a  friend  of  one  of  them, 
uttered  a  loud  shriek  and  swooned  away.  This  caused  a 
kind  of  consternation  in  the  house  and  spoiled  the  effect.  It 
has  been  decided,  therefore,  that  in  future  only  extracts  from 
the  bulletins  shall  be  read  at  the  theatres,  and  never  the  list 
of  the  killed. 

More  wagers  are  being  laid  as  to  peace  or  war.  People 
must  always,  as  you  know,  be  betting  about  something. 
The  Emperor's  return  is  spoken  of  with  hope  and  desire,  but 
I,  ynon  ann,  can  only  be  silent  when  I  hear  of  rumoi*s  which, 

*  An  actor  of  the  Opera  Comique,  who  came  out  in  1782,  in  the  part  of  Julica 
in  "Colinettc  h.  la  Court."     Uc  was  a  fine  muaician,  witli  a  good  bass  voice. 


182  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  BE  R&MUSAT. 

if  confirmed,  would  iiuike  me  happy  in  so  many  different 
ways. 

I  do  not  know  whether  the  letters  in  which  I  told  jou  of 
mj  visit  to  Sannois  have  reached  you.  I  stayed  there  three 
days.  Mme.  d'Houdetot  was  unwell,  and  she  is  now  suffer- 
ing from  tertian  ague,  which,  together  with  depression  natu- 
ral at  her  great  age,  has  much  reduced  her.  She  is  still 
young  in  mind  and  heart,  and,  notwithstanding  all  she  has 
lost,  clings  fondly  to  life.  "My  regrets,"  she  said  to  me, 
"  are  memories  which  embellish  my  life  even  now."  This  is 
certainly  looking  on  the  bright  side  of  things. 

If  you  care  to  hear  about  your  theatre,  I  may  tell  you 
that  it  seems  well  attended,  in  spite  of  the  war  and  of  the 
emptiness  of  Paris.  Lafond  is  an  attraction ;  he  has  just 
been  acting  the  "  Misanthrope,"  rather  badly  in  my  opinion. 
There  was  something  of  spitefulness  in  his  anger  against 
mankind  that  does  not  belong  to  the  part,  and  a  flavor  of 
melodrama  in  his  passion  which,  although  always  acceptable 
to  the  public,  is  unworthy  of  Moliere.  I  thought  him  very 
superior  in  the  "  Femmes  Savantes " ;  his  natural  talents 
require  to  be  wisely  directed.  It  has  been  said  that  Mile. 
Georges  intends  to  leave  the  theatre,  I  do  not  know  why. 


XCIII. 

TO   M.    DE   EEMUSAT,  AT   MAYENCE. 

Paris,  Tuesday,  October  S8,  1806. 
Fredeeick  *  will  hand  you  this  letter  on  his  way  through 
Mayence.     He  is  starting  for  Prussia — got  his  orders  and 
had  to  be  ready  in  twenty-four  hours.     Is  there  not  some- 

*  M.  Frederick  d'Houdetot  was  the  son  of  General  d'Houdetot  by  his  first 
marriage,  and  grandson  of  the  lady  so  frequently  mentioned  in  the  Letters.  He 
was  successively  Prefect  of  Ghent  and  of  Brussels,  and  peer  of  France,  and  was 
a  deputy  under  the  Second  Empire.     He  died  without  children. 


SOCIAL   CHANGES.  1S3 

thing  amusing  in  this  spirit  of  rushing  about  that  has  seized 
upon  everybody  ?  Amusing,  however,  is  not  the  right  word, 
for  it  will  be  sad  enough  for  the  many  who  are  left  behind. 
You  will  also,  perhaps,  see  M.  de  Tournon.  He  came  to  ask 
me  if  I  had  anything  to  send  by  him ;  but  I  preferred  M. 
d'Houdetot.     This  certainty  I  do  not  like  to  miss.  .  .  , 

So  you  have  given  up  your  Electoral  College  ?  AVe  can 
not  understand  here  how  you  could  do  so  without  permission. 
My  mother  feels  sure  that  you  have  made  a  mistake,  and 
that  probably  you  omitted  writing  to  Franchc  Comte  to  keep 
your  claims  in  remembrance  there.  Who  takes  your  place  ? 
M.  Clement  de  Kis  *  asked  me  this  question  one  day.  So 
you  have  seen  Norvins  ?  What  do  you  tliink  of  his  wild 
proceeding?  Is  it  not  absurd  to  enter  the  army  at  close 
upon  forty,  in  order  to  obtain  a  place  in  the  Government 
or  the  magistracy,  for  which  he  pressed  with  unshrinking 
urgency  ?  .  .  . 

You  see  how  our  circle  is  ffraduallv  thinning.  We  shall 
scarcely  have  any  one  left  but  M.  de  Nouy,  who  w^as  here 
this  evening,  and  who  is  pleasant  enough,  only  that  he  is  so 
deaf  that  he  hears  nothing,  and  can  not  talk,  on  account  of 
his  asthma.  Bertrand  will  not  join,  I  fancy,  but  Mme.  de 
Souza  and  the  ecmiomical  household  absorb  him  entirely. 
Gallois  is  lost  to  us,  and  never  stirs  from  a  certain  fireside 
that  you  know.  Abbe  Morellet  is  growing  old.  M.  Pas- 
quier  can  seldom  escape  from  the  cares  of  State,  which  re- 
quire his  attention,  and  from  his  surroundings ;  and  our  salon 
is  deserted,  which  does  not  grieve  me  much.  But  even  were 
I  more  dull  than  I  am,  I  should  think  it  natural  to  look  for 
happiness  first,  and  then  for  pleasure,  from  your  ever-longed- 
for  return.  We  are  told  to  hope  for  it  soon.  I  can  not  be- 
lieve it,  and  am  much  more  disposed  to  fear  that  you,  too, 
will  be  summoned  to  Prussia.  This  would  be  additional 
sorrow  for  me,  and  I  dare  not  dwell  on  it.   .  .  . 

*  M.  Clement  de  Ris  was  a  senator.     He  was  subsequently  peer  of  France, 
and  died  in  1827. 


184  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  REMUSAT. 

XCIY. 

TO    M.    DE   REMUSAT,    AT   MAYENCE. 

Pakis,  November  1,  1806. 

Mon  ami,  I  have  seen  your  tailor,  wlio  says  it  will  take  a 
week  to  embroider  the  coat,  and,  however  I  may  hurry  him, 
I  do  not  think  we  can  get  it  sooner ;  but  I  will  do  my  very 
best.     It  will  be  too  bad  if  you  have  to  set  out  for  Prussia ; 
however,  I  sliould  apply  to  M.  de  Lavalette,  who  would  know 
where  to  send  it  to  you.     But  can  you  not  see  my  face  as  I 
write  the  words,  '■'■If  you  have  to  set  out  for  Prussia  !  "     I 
confess  that  I  am  upset  at  the  idea.     Distance  ought  to  be 
indifferent  when  once  we  are  parted.     But,  in  truth,  it  is  an 
aggravation  of  absence,  and  the  difficulties  of  correspondence 
alone  are  enough  to  make  me  apprehensive  of  the  moment 
that  removes  you  still  fartlier  from  me.     Heaven  gi'ant  the 
speedy  return  of  the  Emperor,  and  that  my  own  private  hap- 
piness may  unite  with  the  general  rejoicings !     I  have  heard 
of  you  in  a  letter  I  received  from  Kor\ans.     He  gives  an 
amusing  account  of  the  confusion  produced  by  the  clashing 
of  divers  opinions  in  his  corps,  and  of  his  regret  at  this  loss 
of  time,  while  the  Emperor  is  swiftly  marching  from  victory 
to  victory.     If  he  is  still  at  Mayence,  pray  remember  me  to 
him.     I  do  not  know  whether  I  ought  to  write  to  him,  for  I 
can  not  tell  where  to  address  my  letter.     I  have  just  read  a 
clever  and  interesting  one  from  Eugene  de  Montesquiou.^ 
He  relates  his  journey  to  Jena  the  day  before  -the  battle. 
Having  been  sent  to  Prince  Hohenlohe,  he  was  detained  on 
various  pretexts,  and  could  not  succeed  in  reaching  the  King. 
On  the  morning  of  the  great  battle  the  King  sent  to  say  he 
could  not  receive  him  until  it  was  over.     Thus  he  remained 
an  inactive  but  agitated  spectator  of  the  engagement.     Gen- 

*  M.  Eugene  de  Montcsquiou  was  a  cousiu  of  Aimcry  de   Montesquiou- 
Fozcnsac. 


THE  PRINCE  OF  WURTEMBURG.  185 

cral  Blucher  ostentatiously  gave  orders  in  his  hearing  that  no 
Frenchman  was  to  be  suffered  to  escape  in  the  rout  that  was 
thought  to  be  inevitable.  Toward  evening  the  Prince  of 
Wiirtemberg  arrived  at  headquarters  with  the  fugitives  from 
the  iield  of  battle.  He  was  so  ignorant  of  the  state  of  things, 
and  so  calm,  that  he  was  intending  to  take  medicine  that  night. 
Eugene  was  just  in  time  to  tell  him  that  the  effect  of  the 
dose  would  probably  be  greatly  interfered  with.  His  life 
was  afterward  in  great  danger.  Some  Prussian  soldiers,  an- 
gered at  their  defeat,  wanted  to  hill  him,  and  an  officer  with 
great  difficulty  saved  his  life.  Finally,  he  was  allowed  to 
return  to  our  headquarters,  having  lost  his  suite  and  his 
horses.  On  his  way  he  came  up  with  two  Frenchmen,  and 
shortly  afterward  with  eighteen  Prussian  stragglers,  whom 
the  three  took  prisoners,  and  marched  to  the  camp  in  tri- 
umj^h.  He  says  the  Emperor  was  amused  at  his  adventures, 
and  laughed  very  much  at  his  capture  of  prisoners.  If  you 
already  know  the  story,  I  have  told  it  unnecessarily ;  but  I 
thought  it  too  good  to  lose. 

We  have  no  direct  news  from  my  brother-in-law,  but  the 
silence  of  the  "  Moniteur  "  is  comforting.  Aimery,  too,  does 
not  write ;  however,  he  is  known  to  be  in  good  health  and 
about  to  get  his  lieutenancy.  Charles  de  Flahault  wrote  to 
this  effect.  Thus,  all  the  mothers  and  wives  of  my  acquaint- 
ance are  tolerably  tranquil  at  present.  I  saw  M.  de  Tascher, 
the  senator,  yesterday ;  *  he  seemed  very  anxious  about  his 
son,  of  whom  he  has  heard  nothing.  He  is  sub-lieutenant  in 
General  Soult's  division.  Perhaps  if  Deschamps  were  to 
write  a  line  as  if  from  the  Empress,  he  might  get  an  answer. 
I  was  touched  by  the  poor  father's  affection  and  solicitude 
for  his  son.  .  .  . 

Mme.  Simons  t  is  waiting  for  your  permission  for  the 

*  A  kinsman  of  the  Empress.     Ilia  son  was  a  peer  of  France. 

■)•  Mme.  Simons-CaTidcillc,  a  daughter  of  Candeille,  a  former  singer  and  com- 
poser of  operas,  was  born  in  1767.  After  coming  out  at  the  Op6ra,  she  became 
socii'iairc  of  the  Comedie  Frun<,aiso,  which  she  soon  (iiiittcd  in  order  to  act  in 


186  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  REMUSAT. 

Frangais  to  join  tlie  other  theatres  in  a  performance  for  the 
benefit  of  her  fatlier.  She  has  already  M.  de  Lugay's  per- 
mission for  the  Salle  Favart  and  Duport.  "Manlius"  is  to 
be  the  play,  but  Talma  is  waiting  for  orders  from  you.  Do 
not  delay. 


XCY. 

TO  M.  DE  EEMUSAT,  AT  MAYENCE. 

Paris,  Nmembcr  2,  1S06. 

We  have  just  received  the  news  of  the  Emperor's  arrival 
at  Berlin,*  and  Alix  has  at  last  got  a  letter  from  her  hus- 
band, written  from  Potsdam.  There  is  something  very  re- 
markable in  the  marvelous  good  fortune  of  the  Emperor, 
which  is  so  constant  to  him  both  in  great  and  little  thing's. 
It  is  said  he  arrived  at  Potsdam  on  the  same  day  as  that  on 
which,  a  year  before,  the  Emperor  of  Russia  had  arrived 
there,  and  it  is  no  small  thing,  nor  unworthy  of  record,  that 
both  should  have  slept  within  the  same  year  in  Frederick's 
palace.  We  hear  that  there  are  rumors  of  peace  in  the  army. 
It  is  also  reported  here.     What  is  thought  at  Mayence  ?  .  .  . 


XCVI. 


TO  M.  DE  EEMUSAT,  AT  MAYENCE. 

Paris,  November  5,  1806. 
I  AM  very  sorry  to  hear  what  you  say  about  the  war.    We 
simple  folks  had  imagined  that  one  lesson  would  have  been 

plays  written  by  herself — "  La  Belle  Fermierc "  among  others,  which  had  a 
great  success.     She  was  divorced  from  her  first  husband,  and  subsequently  mar- 
ried M.  Simons,  a  Belgian  merchant,  who  had  come  to  Paris  expressly  to  prevent 
his  son  from  marrying  an  actress,  a  Mile.  Lange.     She  died  in  1834. 
*  On  October  27,  1806. 


FORTNIGniLY  RECEPTIONS.  187 

enough  for  the  King  of  Prussia,  and  that  he  would  have 
wanted  to  make  peace.  Now  we  must  resolve  upon  fresh 
victories ;  but  my  heart  is  heavy  when  I  think  of  the  Em- 
peror penetrating  farther  into  distant  countries,  and  bearing 
with  him  the  fate  of  us  all.  Besides  this,  what  sad  separa- 
tions must  be  entailed  by  the  continuance  of  war,  and  how 
slowly  time  will  drag  along  away  from  you,  although  life 
wnll  be  passing  none  the  less  swiftly !  You  are  not  a  sol- 
dier; your  desires  are  moderate;  your  tastes  are  for  civil 
and  family  life ;  and  yet  for  five  months  of  this  year,  and  for 
seven  of  last  year,  we  have  been  parted,  and  1  have  never 
been  able  to  accustom  myself  to  the  solitude  of  heart  in 
which  your  absence  leaves  me.  I  think  I  could  feel  more 
resigned  if  I  were  the  wife  of  a  general.  At  any  rate,  I 
could  not  reasonably  object  to  the  kind  of  hfe  I  lead.  Yes- 
terday was  Charles's  fete  day.  I  shed  tears  when  I  gave  him 
my  blessing ;  it  seemed  incomplete  without  yours,  which  has 
twice  been  wanting  on  this  anniversary. 

Man  ami,  my  sorrow  is  renewed  every  moment.  Alone 
or  in  society,  at  home  or  abroad,  you  are  always  present  to 
my  mind,  and,  alas !  I  find  you  nowhere.  Whether  I  am 
grieving  or  enjoying  myself,  I  feel  that  I  want  to  share  every 
thought  with  you.  To-day,  for  instance,  I  have  longed  for 
you  all  day.  My  mother  and  I  have  decided  on  giving  no 
dinners  during  the  month,  but  every  fortnight  we  shall  in- 
vite about  a  dozen  persons  to  spend  the  evening.  On  this 
occasion  we  have  had  Mme.  de  Vintimille,  MM.  Lavalette, 
Pasquier,  Dorion,*  Mole,  Morellet,  Bertrand,  and  Desfau- 
cherets.  There  was  some  good  talk  ;  my  mother  was  in  un- 
usually good  spirits,  quite  animated  and  brilliant ;  conversa- 
tion did  not  flag  for  a  moment.  I  must  tell  you  that  M.  de 
Lavalette  made  himself  most  agreeable,  and  that  he  is  quite 
an  acquisition.  There  is  delicacy  in  his  wit,  modesty  in  his 
speech,  and  straightforwardness  in  his  manner  that  make  him 

*  M.  Dorion  wrote  two  poems,  "La  Bataille  d'Uastiags"  and  "  La  Chute  de 
Palmy  re." 


188  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  R^MUSAT. 

very  prc])Ossessing.  I  was  wishing  for  you  among  all  these 
pleasant  people,  and  you  would  have  enjoyed  the  conversa- 
tion. I  could  not  help  thinking,  when  it  was  most  animated, 
of  a  curious  feature  of  our  social  life.  At  this  moment  a 
number  of  our  fellow-creatures  are  wearing  themselves  out 
in  marching  and  watching,  or  are  fighting  unto  death,  to  pro- 
cure for  us  an  opportunity  of  talking  idly  at  our  firesides 
about  all  the  trifles  to  which  we  choose  to  attach  importance. 
I  was  struck  by  the  mobility  of  our  impressions  and  the 
strange  incoherence  of  our  ideas.  At  first  we  were  all  de- 
pressed by  the  news  of  the  prolongation  of  the  war ;  its  pos- 
sible chances  filled  us  with  alarm  ;  but  by  degrees  these  feel- 
in  o-s  w^ore  off,  and  presently,  in  pursuit  of  I  know  not  what 
ideas,  we  were  far  away  from  war  and  politics,  and  entirely 
eno-rossed  in  fine-spun  dissertations  on  sentiments  and 
thoughts  that  one  would  have  imagined  could  only  have 
been  interesting  in  times  of  profound  peace  and  entire  ex- 
emption from  real  trouble. 

We  have  heard  from  Aimery ;  he  is  well.  M.  de  Nan- 
souty  has  written  also ;  he  says  he  is  in  a  state  of  stupefac- 
tion at  the  total  disappearance  of  an  army  so  fair  to  the  eye, 
and  that  he  thought  so  excellent.  You  remember  his  old 
admiration  for  Prussian  cavalry,  and  you  can  imagine  his 
satisfaction  at  having  defeated  it.  His  wife  is  now  going  to 
be  miserable  again,  after  having  been  tolerably  at  ease. 
Glory  is  a  poor  solace  for  heartache,  and  the  tears  of  women 
record  the  triumphs  of  masculine  pride. 

If  you  have  nothing  to  do,  tell  us  which  suffers  most 
from  ennui,  a  clever  man,  a  fool,  or  a  brute  ?  We  could 
arrive  at  no  conclusion  this  evening  on  the  subject. 


PARIS  ILLUMINATED.  ~  189 

XCVII. 

TO   M.    DE    KE5IUSAT,    AT    MAYENCE. 

Paris,  November  9,  1S06. 

I  AM  at  my  sister's,  mon  ami,  and  sitting  by  a  good  fire, 
with  my  desk  on  my  knees,  near  a  little  table  in  a  little 
green  room  that  you  know.  While  I  write,  Alix  is  singing, 
and  her  sweet  voice  blends  with  the  emotion  that  always  fills 
my  soul  when  I  am  thus  communing  with  you.  .  .  . 

Paris  is  illuminated.  The  Te  Deum  was  sung  this  morn- 
ing. Alix  was  warmly  congratulated  yesterday  at  the 
Archchancellor's,  and  Princess  Caroline  was  good  enough 
to  send  her  word  that  the  Grand  Duke  of  Berg  speaks 
highly  of  her  husband.  This  is  the  reward  of  some  of  her 
tears,  if,  indeed,  there  can  be  any  compensation  for  the  ab- 
sence of  one  we  love,  except  his  return.  Is  it  true  the  Em- 
press is  coming  back,  and,  if  true,  what  does  it  mean  ? 
This  is  the  question,  and  people  draw  from  it  either  good 
or  evil  auguries,  according  as  they  are  most  inclined  to  fear 
or  hope.  In  any  case,  it  seems  to  me  she  would  do  well  not 
to  desert  Paris.  Her  presence  would  restore  a  little  life, 
and  do  away  with  the  prevalent  discontent. 

Your  reflections  on  the  wonders  of  this  last  campaign 
seem  very  just.  There  is  something  in  the  Emperor's  for- 
tune that  confounds  ordinary  ideas,  and  is,  so  to  speak, 
above  them.  One  feels  carried  away  and  almost  stunned ; 
and  yet  he  seems  to  be  raised  so  far  above  circumstances 
that  one  has  no  right  to  be  terrified  at  the  dangers  to  which 
he  exposes  himself,  and  still  less  to  fix  the  limit  at  which  he 
should  stop.  Yet  it  makes  one's  heart  heavy  to  think  of  the 
terrible  distance  which  now  separates  him  from  us.  May 
God  be  with  him,  and  preserve  him  to  us  !  This  is  my  con- 
stant prayer. 

Wliile  he,  with  the  finest  part  of  the  French  nation,  is 


190  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  BE  RKMUSAT. 

inarching  onward  to  glory,  we  are  vegetating  liere  in  gi'cat 
monotony.  There  is  very  little  going  on  ;  people  are  living 
to  themselves  and  giving  no  invitations.  My  mother  and  I 
go  out  very  little,  but  are  always  "  at  home  "  on  Mondays 
and  Fridays.  Our  friends,  knowing  this,  come  to  us  on  those 
days,  and  we  have  pleasant  talks  until  ten  o'clock,  or  eleven 
at  latest,  when  every  one  retires  to  rest.  Mme.  de  Yinti- 
mille,  who  is  very  attentive  to  us  this  year,  seldom  fails  to 
come,  and  makes  herself  very  agreeable.  M.  Pasquier  is  her 
faithful  attendant,  and  ours  too.  He  starts  our  subjects,  dis- 
cusses, and  decides  them.  Lemercier  refines  and  sometimes 
obscures  ;  my  mother  contributes  her  charming  humor ;  Ber- 
trand  and  the  Abbe  condemn  them  for  the  most  part  as  twad- 
dle, all  the  more  so  as  this  year,  I  don't  know  why,  we  seem 
to  turn  naturally  to  sentimental  questions.  For  instance,  we 
were  discussing  the  day  before  yesterday  which  should  have 
the  preeminence  in  love — the  man  or  woman  who  sees  faults 
in  the  beloved  but  loves  on,  or  he  who  is  so  blind  as  to  take 
faults  for  qualities?  If  you  have  nothing  to  do,  send  us 
your  opinion,  and  also  some  houts  I'iraes.  By  the  by,  what 
are  you  doing  with  your  own  talents  ?  How  is  your  German 
getting  on  ?  .  .  . 


xcviir. 

TO  M.  DE  KEMUSAT,  AT  MAYENCE, 

Paris,  November  10, 1S06. 
We  have  heard  report  here  that  Magdeburg  *  has  been 
taken,  and  we  are  expecting  official  new^s.  AVe  know  nothing 
about  the  armies,  and  imagine  nothing  for  ourselves ;  the 
general  inertia  which  seems  to  extend  even  to  our  thoughts. 
I  think  that  the  German  campaign  of  last  year  was  more 

*  Magdeburg  was  takeu  on  November  8th.   The  Emperor  had  been  at  Berlin 
from  October  27th. 


EOCnETS  DUEL.  191 

stirrinj?,  thouirh  less  miraculous,  than  this  one.  It  is  true 
that  the  Emperor  has  accustomed  us  to  wonders.  On  speak- 
ing of  this  to  Fontanes  a  few  days  ago,  I  asked  him  what  he 
would  contrive  to  say  this  time  on  the  Emperor's  return,  and 
he  owned  that  he  did  not  think  he  should  be  able  to  find 
words  worthy  of  such  great  deeds.  "  History,"  he  said,  "  can 
show  us  nothing  like  them  ;  it  is  no  longer  possible  to  read  it." 
I  do  not  agree  with  him  on  the  latter  point,  and  I  confess 
that,  I  consider  it,  on  the  contrary,  the  most  useful  reading  of 
the  day.  Thanks  to  your  son,  I  am  going  through  a  course 
of  ancient  history  again,  and  I  make  numberless  compari- 
sons, which  are  interesting  and  at  the  same  time  instructive. 
Only  it  seems  to  me  that  we  of  the  present  century  are,  as 
it  were,  in  the  secret  of  things,  and  that  in  searching  into 
past  times  we  are  like  those  persons  who,  instead  of  remain- 
ing in  the  pit,  look  at  tlie  play  from  behind  the  scenes.  We 
are  nearer ;  we  see  the  machinery,  and  we  do  but  admire  the 
more,  because  we  must  needs,  in  a  nation  like  ours,  make 
use  of  some  that  is  considerably  rusty.  But  I  must  pause, 
for  my  subject  would  lead  me  far,  and  I  should  probably 
lose  my  way. 

To  return  to  our  own  circle.  I  don't  know  whether  the 
story  of  Hochet's  duel  has  reached  you.  He  took  it  into  his 
head  to  say  *  in  a  feuilUton  that  Chazet  made  a  trade  of  his 
talents,  and,  in  fact,  it  is  asserted  that  he  lends  his  name  to 
young  writers  for  a  consideration,  Chazet  asked  Ilochet  for 
an  explanation ;  they  fought,  and  Chazet  received  a  wound 
in  the  chest.  He  has  been  spitting  blood  since.  This  affair 
has  greatly  raised  Ilochet  in  the  estimation  of  society ;  but 
I,  who  am  at  times,  as  you  know,  a  reasonable  and  reasoning 
being — I  can  only  regard  Ilochet  as  a  writer  who  did  not 
confine  himself  to  purely  literary  subjects  in  his  feuilletons, 

*  M.  Ilocliet,  a  very  nftrccable  man  of  letters,  was  a  friend  of  Mme.  de 
Stael's.  He  died  at  eighty-six  or  eighty-seven  years  of  age,  in  1857.  His  adver- 
sary in  the  duel  was  Alissan  de  Chazet,  a  well-known  writer,  then  and  subse- 
quently, of  vaudevilles,  and  a  collaboratcur  with  Desangicrs. 


192  LETTERS   OF  MADAME  DE  REMUS  AT. 

as  lie  should  have  done.  Some  of  the  Abbe  Morellet's 
friends  want  him  to  follow  Hochet's  example,  and  to  send  a 
challenge  to  Geoffroj ;  but  our  Abbe's  eighty  winters  dis- 
pense him  from  this  new  style  of  literary  discussion.  By  the 
way,  he  is  much  changed  this  winter.  Old  age  has  come 
upon  him  at  last.  He  is  dull  and  drowsy ;  sometimes  of  an 
evening  Cousin  Pasquier's  voice  rouses  him  for  a  moment, 
but  he  is  not  strong  enough  for  argument,  and  sinks  back 
grumbling  into  his  arm-chair.  .  .  . 


XCIX. 

TO  M.  DE  EEMDSAT,  AT  MAYENCE. 

Paris,  Saturday^  Novetnber  15,  1S06. 

There  is  a  great  discussion  going  on  at  the  Academy 
just  now.  Maury,  who,  as  you  know,  is  to  pronounce  the 
panegyric  on  Target,  insists  on  being  addressed  as  Monseig- 
neur  in  the  reply.  The  matter  makes  a  great  stir.  Some 
say  it  is  against  the  custom,  and  that  the  republic  of  letters 
must  be  maintained.  The  Cardinal  declares  he  will  not  put 
his  foot  in  the  academic  temple  unless  he  is  addressed  by  his 
title.  The  amusing  part  is  that  D'Alembert  formerly  wrote 
a  grand  letter  in  support  of  that  very  equality,  and  that  it  is 
the  philosophers  who  contend  for  the  Monseigneur  against 
the  Cheniers,  Eegnaults,  etc.  The  question  is  to  be  referred 
to  the  Emperor,  and  in  the  midst  of  all  his  war  triumphs 
he  will  be  appealed  to  on  this  important  point.  Vaniias  ! 
But,  as  you  know,  vanity  is  to  be  found  everywhere,  even  in 
Christian  humility,  from  which,  however,  our  modern  pre- 
lates hold  themselves  discreetly  aloof.* 

How  good  it  is  of  you  to  speak  as  you  do  of  our  boy,  and 
of  my  care  of  him  !     I  replace  you  as  well  as  I  can,  but  he  is 

*  This  discussion  is  related  with  fuller  details  in  the  Memoirs. 


THE  TWO  SONS.  193 

advancing,  and  1  am  no  longer  sufficient ;  he  requires  a  mas- 
culine hand  over  him.  He  is  making  some  progress,  and  I 
am  taking  pains  with  him,  but  do  not  think  that  I  help  him 
so  much  as  I  did  a  year  ago.  I  am  quite  convinced  it  is 
necessary  that  he  should  learn  to  depend  on  himself,  and  he 
now  studies  alone  much  more.  Only  1  watch  him  to  see  that 
he  works,  and  keep  him  in  my  room,  where  I  know  that  he 
wastes  no  time.  As  for  the  taking  up  of  my  own,  how  could 
it  be  better  employed  ?  Wliat  other  object  should  I  have  in 
life?  Rousseau  says  somewhere  that  when  women  have 
become  mothers  they  should  forbid  themselves  the  taste  for 
study,  and,  laying  all  theories  aside,  regulate  the  employment 
of  the  day  solely  with  relation  to  the  education  of  their 
children.  I  am  very  far  indeed  from  such  perfection,  for  I 
have  many  hours  to  myself,  and  waste  them  on  the  frivolous 
occupations  habitual  to  us  women.  Albert  is  growing 
strong ;  he  talks  away,  in  a  language  which  he  has  invented 
for  himself,  and  which  is  only  understood  by  a  select  few. 
His  deafness  is  against  him ;  but  I  feel  sure  it  will  disappear 
when  he  gets  rid  of  the  eruption,  which  is  so  trying  to  him, 
and  I  wait  patiently  for  this.  He  has  a  sweet  disposition,  so 
affectionate  and  gentle.  Both  little  fellows  are  made  of 
right  good  stuff. 

To  prove  to  you,  however,  that  I  still  find  time  for  seri- 
ous reading,  I  must  tell  you  that  hearing  Montesquieu  con- 
stantly quoted  in  our  circle,  I  looked  for  his  works,  and  the 
first  time  I  opened  them  I  came  upon  the  following  phrase, 
which  seems  to  me  of  good  omen :  "  A  conquest  may 
destroy  injurious  prejudices,  and  place,  if  I  may  venture  to 
say  so,  a  nation  under  a  better  genius."  I  can  say  nothing 
better  than  this.  When  you  are  at  home,  if  you  have  time, 
I  will  read  Montesquieu  again  with  you.  You  can  explain 
many  things  to  me,  and  that  will  please  me  much. 
9 


194  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  I)E  REMUSAT. 

C. 

TO    M.  DE    REMUSAT,    AT    MAYENCE. 

Paris,  November  IS,  1S06. 
The  quarrel  at  the  Academy  is  still  going  on.  Cardinal 
Maury  sticks  to  his  Monseigneur  out  of  respect  to  his  office, 
and  there  is  hot  discussion.  Would  you  believe  that  some 
persons  are  so  unreasonable  as  to  want  to  compel  him  to 
wear  the  green  coat  instead  of  his  cardinal's  robes?  This 
absurdity  has  made  a  sensation  which  will  scarcely  surprise 
you,  knowing  as  you  do  our  French  ardor  about  trifles.  It 
is  really  surprising  how  we  let  great  and  important  things 
slide,  and  excite  ourselves  about  nothing  at  all.  I  am  often 
reminded  of  Alcibiades's  dog's  tail,  only  just  now  it  would 
serve  not  to  arnuse,  but  to  wake  us  up.  For  want  of  some- 
thing better  to  say,  I  may  tell  you  that  Lemercier  read  his 
comedy,  "  Le  Faux  Bonhomme,"  to  us  two  days  ago.  Fleury's 
illness  delays  its  performance.  Mme.  de  Vintimille,  who 
was  eager  to  hear  it,  had  begged  that  favor  of  the  author, 
and  he  read  before  a  select  circle,  who  pretended  to  be 
pleased,  but  were,  as  usual,  very  dissatisfied.  There  are 
none  of  his  favorite  eccentricities  in  this  last  production,  but 
there  is  a  decided  want  of  strength  and  action,  half-drawn 
characters,  tasteless  lines ;  and  yet,  with  all  these  defects, 
there  are  a  few  pretty  portraits,  some  clever  observations  on 
society,  and  some  well-arranged  scenes.  This  is  my  opinion, 
but  keep  it  to  yourself.  He  read  it  admirably.  You  know 
how  he  reads ;  it  is  a  pleasure  to  hear  him.  Meanwhile 
Lafond  has  taken  possession  of  the  stage  and  draws  good 
houses.  He  succeeded  admirably  in  "  La  Metromanie."  I 
was  quite  delighted  with  it,  and  remembered  that  you  had 
predicted  a  success  in  that  t'ole  for  him.  This  recollection 
was  with  me  all  the  evening.  I  welcome  all  such ;  they 
brighten  and  comfort  my  loneliness.  I  can  not  say  that  they 
make  it  gay,  for  I  always  end  by  weeping  in  secret.     Your 


NAPOLEON  AND  POLAND.  195 

tripoi  is  not  doing  badly ;  it  is  not  deserted,  and,  notwith- 
standing the  emptiness  of  Paris  and  the  war,  it  is  better 
attended  than  last  year.  The  princesses  are  said  to  be  recon- 
ciled. Things  were  rather  serious  for  a  moment ;  Mile.  Con- 
tat  seems  to  have  made  up  her  mind  to  remain. 

I  much  wish  to  know  whether  you  have  heard  from  M. 
de  Talleyrand,  and  what  is  to  become  of  you.  We  hear  all 
sorts  of  contradictory  reports.  The  Emperor,  it  is  said, 
after  settling  the  army  in  winter  quarters,  will  return  to 
Paris,  to  ascertain  for  himself  how  all  is  going  on,  and,  after 
a  short  stay,  will  again  leave  us.  A  King  of  Poland  is  also 
mentioned.  Kow  he  is  Prince  Jerome  ;  again,  the  Elector 
of  Saxony  or  Prince  Charles.  Yesterday  it  was  reported 
that  the  Queen  of  Prussia  had  poisoned  herself  in  despair, 
etc.  Such  are  the  rumors  in  Paris.  The  details  given  in 
to-day's  bulletins  are  very  remarkable.  It  looks  to  me  as  if 
there  were  no  more  Prussians  to  fear,  and  that  they  have 
paid  dearly  for  their  imprudence.  M.  Mole  has  received 
a  most  comical  letter  from  Frederick  Houdetot.  He  writes 
from  Berlin,  where  he  had  been  for  five  days  at  the  date  of 
his  letter,  and  had  not  been  able  to  see  anybody.  The  min- 
isters have  not  yet  received  him.  He  is  staying  at  an  inn, 
not  knowing  what  he  is  to  do,  frozen,  solitary,  and  so  igno- 
rant of  what  is  going  on,  that  he  begs  we  will  keep  some 
"  Moniteurs  "  for  him,  so  that  he  may  be  able  at  a  future  day 
to  fill  up  the  hiatus.  He  says  that  Berlin  presents  a  most 
peaceable  appearance,  and  that  his  journey  seems  to  him  like 
a  dream.     Meanwhile,  his  cousin  here  is  immersed  in  the 

pleasures  of  contentiousness.  .  .  . 

November  18th. 

I  reopen  my  letter  to  say  that  M.  Pasquier  has  just  come 
to  tell  me  that  the  Archchanccllor  wrote  to  the  Emperor  to 
ask  for  auditors.  They  are  to  be  appointed.  Your  nephew 
is  anxious  to  be  one  of  them.  If  you  can  write  to  the  Arch- 
chancellor,  it  must  be  done  immediately.  I  would  ])Iacc  the 
letter  in  his  hands. 


196  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  REMUS  AT. 

Just  as  I  was  closing  tliis,  Charles  brought  me  in  a  letter 
for  you.  He  wrote  it  quite  by  himself,  and  it  is  very  clever. 
I  am  really  sorry  not  to  send  it  to  you,  but  I  fear  it  might  get 
lost,  and  the  child  has  innocently  entered  into  certain  domes- 
tic details  that  I  should  not  like  to  be  made  known.  But  as 
I  do  not  like  to  disappoint  him  by  saying  I  can  not  send  it, 
will  you  answer  him  as  if  you  had  received  it,  and  tell  him 
that  you  are  obliged  for  the  news  he  gives  you  concerning 
all  of  us  ;  that  you  are  very  glad  Halma  is  pleased  with  him ; 
that  his  Latin  quotations  are  good,  and  his  judgment  of 
Philip,  King  of  Macedonia,  correct — for  he  tells  you  he  has 
just  been  reading  the  life  of  that  king  in  Rollin's  History. 
I  will  keep  his  letter  for  you ;  my  maternal  vanity  is  de- 
lighted with  it.  In  all  respects  there  could  not  be  a  more 
charming  child.  .  .  . 


CI. 

TO  M.  DE  REMUSAT,  AT  MAYENCE. 

Paris,  November  20,  1806. 

Foe  the  last  few  days  it  has  been  rumored  that  their 
Majesties  are  returning,  and  that  the  army  is  settled  in  win- 
ter quarters  in  the  Korth.  How  I  hope  it  may  be  so  !  How 
much  we  need  to  be  roused  from  the  lethargy  in  which  we 
are  plunged  by  the  absence  of  you  all !  Princess  Caroline, 
whom  I  saw  yesterday,  told  me  she  hopes  that  we  shall  see 
the  Emperor  back  again  this  winter.  I  went  to  her  early  in 
the  day,  and  she  was  good  enough  to  take  me  all  over  the 
handsomest  and  most  elegant  house  in  Paris.*  Her  state 
apartments  are  not  yet  finished ;  but  part  of  the  ground-floor 
is  furnished  most  sumptuously,  the  garden  is  charming,  and 
when  one  recollects  the  ruinous  state  of  the  place  only  a  year 
ago,   its   sudden   metamorphosis   seems   almost   miraculous. 

*  The  Palace  of  the  Elysee  in  the  Rue  du  Faubourg  St.  Honor6. 


M.  AZAIS.  197 

The  Princess  leads  a  very  quiet  life,  receiving  Init  few- 
guests,  very  rarely  giving  large  dinner-j^arties,  and  never 
ffoinsr  out  herself.  The  Archchancellor  alone  continues  to 
give  great  receptions.  Talking  of  the  Archchancellor  re- 
minds me  to  say,  but  with  no  ill  meaning,  Mme.  Devaines 
has  returned  from  the  country,  refreshed  and  rejuvenated. 
She  loves  it  more  than  ever — intends  giving  up  the  world, 
and  fashionable  dress,  and  living  in  the  fields.  She  can  only 
talk  of  her  trees.  No  more  dinner-parties,  nor  visitings; 
only  nature,  the  song  of  birds,  delicious  shade  of  trees,  and 
perfect  peace — she  wants  nothing  beyond.  Some  of  her 
friends  think  she  is  mistaken,  but  I  am  quite  of  her  mind. 
At  her  age  one  must  live  quietly  if  one  would  inspire  re- 
spect. Mme.  de  Souza  is  still  here,  out  of  health  and  rather 
lonely.  She  is  anxious  about  Charles ;  not  a  word  about  M. 
de  Souza.  Mme.  de  Labriche  has  returned ;  Mme.  d'llou- 
detot  is  expected  at  the  end  of  the  month. 

Mme.  Pastoret  is  full  of  an  individual  who  has  just  ar- 
rived here  and  is  causing  some  sensation.  Do  you  remem- 
ber hearing,  about  a  year  ago,  that  Mme.  Cottier  had  met 
in  the  Pyrenees  a  sublime  creature — a  religious  philosopher, 
who  had  reached  tlic  heights  of  contemplation,  and  intended 
bringing  out  a  book  that  w^as  to  settle  all  discord,  religious 
and  moral  ?  The  name  of  this  person  is  M.  Aza'is.*  He  is 
here ;  his  book  is  published,  and  discussion  goes  on  just  as 
usual,  except  about  his  book,  which  is  said  to  be  utterly  ab- 
surd. His  principle  is  tliat  the  immortality  of  good  is  the 
explanation  of  the  universe.  He  j^roves  this  truth  by  the 
physical  system  of  the  world,  and  is  foolish  enough  to  try  and 

*  Azais  was  born  in  1766  and  died  in  1845.  He  was  at  first  a  Professor  at 
tlic  Prytancc  dc  St.  Cyr.  He  was  the  author,  as  everybody  knows,  of  a  system 
of  philosophy  and  physics  which  explained  all  the  vicissitudes  of  human  destiny 
by  the  law  of  Compeiisation,  and  the  phenomena  of  nature  by  the  law  of  Equi- 
lihrium.  He  was  Inspector  of  Libraries  under  the  Empire.  His  first  work, 
"  Dcs  Compensations  dans  Ics  Dcstinccs  Humaincs,"  was  published  in  180C.  At 
a  later  period  he  wrote  his  "Syst^me  Universel"  and  a  "Oours  dc  Philosophic 
Gcncralc,"  in  eight  volumes. 


198  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  REMUS  AT. 

npset  Newton's  tlicories,  etc.  Our  men  of  science,  who  deny 
all  his  assertions,  have  referred  him  to  the  theologians,  who 
will  have  nothing  to  say  to  him.  lie  is  now  j^atronized  by 
the  metaphysicians,  and  women,  or  at  least  a  few  women,  are 
upholding  him,  because  of  their  "  taste  for  the  unintelligi- 
ble," as  M.  de  Saint-Lambert  nsed  to  say.  Mme.  Pastoret, 
who  has  a  turn  that  way,  has  made  the  acquaintance  of  M. 
Azais,  and  has  invited  me  to  meet  him  at  breakfast.  I  shall 
represent  the  audience,  as  you  may  supj^ose,  and  expect  to  be 
much  amused.  Azais  wants  to  see  the  Emperor;  he  says 
they  are  equals  in  the  moral  world,  and  should  stand  by 
each  other.  He  is  said  to  be  a  line  speaker ;  his  imagination 
is  ardent,  his  manner  animated,  and  his  nonsense  very 
clever.  .  .  . 


CII. 


TO   M.  DE   KEMUSAT,    AT   MAYENCE. 

Paris,  Hovcmbcr  24,  1806. 
Never  have  I  sat  down  to  my  desk  to  write  to  you  so  sor- 
rowfully. My  heart  aches  at  what  I  am  about  to  say,  but  impe- 
rious reason  counsels  it,  and,  whatever  the  cost,  I  must  accus- 
tom myself  not  to  oppose  reason.  I  have  just  received  your 
last  letter ;  it  made  me  weep,  and  I  was  as  much  affected  as 
you  in  reading  your  words,  "  We  are  parted  for  a  long  while." 
The  worst  of  your  position  is  that  you  are  equally  far  from 
the  Emperor  and  from  your  home.  1  think,  therefore,  that 
if  his  Majesty  prolongs  his  stay  in  Prussia,  you  should  make 
up  your  mind  to  ask  leave  to  join  him.  My  tears  are  falling ; 
I  know  not  how  I  shall  endure  such  an  increase  of  distance 
between  us,  nor  the  fear  of  all  the  accidents  you  may  meet 
with  on  your  journey,  but  every  one  tells  me  that  our  inter- 
ests require  this  sacrifice,  and  I  submit.  I  advise  it,  and  I 
have  now  done  my  duty.  But,  nevertheless,  I  can  not  help 
saying  that  every  other  consideration  would   vanish  in  the 


CARDINAL  MAURY.  199 

joy  that  I  should  feci  were  you  to  receive  orders  to  come  to 
me.  Oh !  my  beloved,  how  grievous  is  this  long  absence  ! 
AVhat  a  life  is  mine,  passed  far  from  you  !  What  a  loss  of 
happy  days  for  which  neither  rank  nor  riches  can  ever  com- 
pensate ! 

You  are  quite  right  in  thinking  Paris  was  startled  by 
that  bulletin.*  Some  few  wise  persons  concede  the  necessity 
of  finishing  the  war  once  for  all ;  but  the  masses  are  opposed 
to  it,  and,  moreover,  at  present  we  only  feel  the  misfortunes 
of  war.  The  Emperor's  return  had  been  looked  for ;  it  is 
now  no  longer  expected,  and  great  disappointment  is  experi- 
enced. The  necessity  of  the  Empress's  presence  is  therefore 
very  strongly  felt,  and  this  should  be  explained  to  her.  It 
would  put  a  little  life  into  this  dead  city,  and  show  that  she 
takes  some  interest  in  its  welfare.  For  my  part,  I  believe 
that  her  return  is  absolutely  necessary.  I  can  not  understand 
her  reasons  for  wishing  to  remain  at  Mayence.  Here  she 
would  get  all  the  news  almost  as  (quickly,  and  would  be  quite 
as  quiet;  for  the  moral  atmosphere  is  not  gay,  and  all  is  dull 
and  depressed. 

C  rdinal  Maury's  Monselgneur  business  is  not  yet  over. 
1  was  present  at  a  curious  but  rather  ill-timed  scene  on  this 
subject  last  Friday.  It  occurred  at  Princess  Caroline's.  She 
had  had  a  dinner-party  of  about  thirty  people,  and  a  recep- 
tion in  the  evening.  The  Cardinal  and  I  were  both  at  the 
dinner.  At  nine  o'clock  M.  Res^nault  de  Saint-Jean  d'An- 
gely  makes  his  appearance  (he,  as  you  know,  is  one  of  those 
most  opposed  to  the  title).  "  Monsieur,"  says  the  Cardinal, 
"  I  wish  to  say  a  word  to  you  ;  let  us  go  into  another  room." 
"  I  must  have  witnesses,"  replies  liegnault.  This  anno3's  the 
Cardinal,  among  whose  virtues,  as  you  know,  patience  is  not 
included,  and  he  begins  to  complain.  Regnault  answers 
sourly,  and  the  Abbe  waxes  wroth.     "  I  suppose  you  don't 

*  The  huUcl'ui  which  produced  a  bad  impression  was  probably  the  Emperor's 
prochnnation  to  the  army,  announcing  new  enterprises  and  new  dangers,  and 
promising  fresh  laurels.     It  was  written  from  Potsdam  on  October  2(5,  180G. 


200  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  RIEMUSAT. 

recollect,"  he  says,  "  that  in  the  Constituent  Assembly  I 
treated  you  more  than  once  like  a  little  boy.  If  my  name 
were  Montmorency,  I  should  despise  your  refusal,  but  it  is 
my  hterary  merit  only  that  has  made  me  what  I  am,  and  if 
1  gave  up  the  Monseigneur^  you  would  be  calling  me  Tnon 
camarade  the  next  day.  Now,  this  I  will  not  have."  He 
was  red  and  angry,  and  Regnault  in  a  great  passion.  Every- 
body crowded  round  them,  and  the  Princesses,  who  were  at 
cards  in  an  adjoining  room,  sent  several  times  to  request  si- 
lence. No  one  knows  how  it  will  all  end.  There  is  but  one 
precedent,  that  of  Fontenelle  ;  he  understood  academic  equal- 
ity well,  and  yet  he  addressed  Cardinal  Dubois  as  Monseig- 
neur  and  your  Eminence.  But  the  new  Academicians  say 
that  the  times  are  altered.  Possibly ;  but  men  are  not,  say  I. 
I  have  just  been  interrupted  by  a  visit  from  Lafond,  who 
had  asked  me  for  an  interview.  He  appeals  to  you  because 
his  theatrical  dresses  for  the  comedy  have  cost  him  a  large 
sum.  He  really  deserves  some  recompense,  and  if  you  can 
not  grant  it,  at  least  write  him  a  few  words  of  encouragement 
and  hopefulness.  He  had  a  great  success  in  "  La  Metromanie," 
and  will,  no  doubt,  prove  an  excellent  actor  of  high  comedy. 
He  is  going  to  act  "  Le  Glorieux,"  *  and  he  draws  houses  at 
your  theatre  at  a  time  when  it  is  not  easy  to  do  so.  Talma, 
too,  it  is  said,  is  going  to  try  comedy,  but  I  do  not  believe  it. 
Lafond  seemed  to  doubt,  but  not  to  fear,  his  doing  so.  Mile. 
Duchesnois  has  asked  me  to  obtain  your  leave  for  her  to  go 
and  see  her  mother,  and  also  permission  to  give  a  perform- 
ance at  Valenciennes.     Pray  answer  me  on  this  subject.  .  .  . 

*  A  comedy  by  Dcstouches. 


nOPES  AND  ANXIETIES.  201 


cm. 


TO    M.    DE    REMUSAT,    AT    MAYENCE. 

Paris,  Wednesday,  November  26,  1S06. 

I  WROTE  to  you  yesterday,  advising  you  to  ask  permission 
to  go  to  Berlin.     I  believed  myself  prepared  for  this  addi- 
tional trial.    I  stifled  my  tears  and  my  sorrow,  but  all  this 
show  of  courage  has  vanished  on  reading  the  letter  I  have 
just  received.     The  idea  of  your  departure  lias  completely 
upset  me.     I  think  of  the  immense  distance,  of  the  bad  roads, 
and  the  severe  weather  !     My  heart  is  breaking.     You  will 
go ;  I  feel  it  must  be  so ;  and  I,  your  poor  wife,  must  brood 
over  my  anxieties  by  my  dull  fireside,  all  alone,  with  no  hope 
of  your  speedy  return.     For,  since  the  Empress  also  goes,  it 
must  be  that  the  Emperor  is  to  be  long  absent  from  us,  per- 
haps all  the  winter.     I  can  not  reconcile  myself  to  this,  and 
my  tears  are  falling  as  I  sit  here  alone.     Sometimes  I  think  I 
will  go  to  Mayence  and  ask  the  Empress's  leave  to  accom- 
pany her.     And  then  I  banish  the  idea,  because  we  must  not 
both  leave  our  children.     I  have  been  separated  from  you 
five  months  of  this  year,  and  seven  of  last,  and  who  can  tell 
what  the  future  may  have  in  store  for  me  !     All  my  life  is 
in   your   hands,  my  beloved !      Take  care  of   your  health, 
therefore ;  do  not   add  to   my   anxieties ;  and    if   you   go, 
write  as  often  as  possible,  so  as  to  spare  me  all  the  misery 
you   can.     What  can  I    say   to  you    besides?     I   have   no 
courage   to   speak   of  anything   else.       Yet  I    cherish   one 
hope  still — hope  in  the  armistice,  which  you  do   not  men- 
tion.    This  m.ay,    perhaps,    change    the    Emperor's    plans 
and   l)ring  him  back  to  us.     If  so,  the  Empress  would  not 
go  to  Berlin ;  and  to  this  straw  I  cling.     Moreover,  Paris  is 
in  real  need  of  her  sovereigns,  and  their  further  journeyings 
will  have  an  additionally  depressing  effect.     C^harles  regrets 
very  much  that  he  is  not  a  few  years  older ;  for  then  he  says 


202  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  REMUSAT. 

lie  would  go  with  you ;  and  I  would  let  my  own  youth  vanish 
without  regret  so  that  I  might  see  that  of  my  son.  I  think 
he  would  not  accompany  you,  for  you  would  stay  with  me, 
cher  ami — with  me,  who  would  have  desired  never  to  spend 
one  single  day  out  of  your  dear  presence,  and  am  reduced  to 
counting  the  endless  number  that  begin  and  end  without  you ! 
Adieu.  I  am  too  sad  to  write  more,  and  I  blame  myself 
for  adding  to  your  regrets.  AVe  must  submit  to  what  is  im- 
posed on  you  by  duty.  ... 


CIV. 


TO   M.    DE   KEMUSAT,    AT   MAYENCE. 

Paris,  November  29,  1806. 

The  quarrel  is  still  raging  at  the  Institute.  Maury  and 
Kegnault  are  abusing  each  other.  ^Neither  the  one  nor  the 
other  includes  moderation  among  apostolic  virtues  or  magis- 
terial qualities.  The  Abbe  Morellet,  whom  I  saw  the  day 
before  yesterday,  is  greatly  displeased  with  the  recent  sittings 
of  the  Academy,  and  especially  with  a  proposition  made  two 
days  ago  by  Lacuee,*  to  deliberate  on  the  question  whether 
the  Emperor  can  or  can  not  decide  the  great  business  of  the 
Monseigneur.  Our  Abbe  considers  there  is  a  lack  of  respect 
in  such  a  discussion,  and  I  think  the  remark  is  just.  The 
point  will  be  decided  on  Thursday.  Meanwhile  the  Cardinal 
tells  everybody  that  he  cares  very  little  for  the  Institute,  and 
he  imports  into  the  disjjute,  really  a  very  trivial  one,  a  de- 
gree of  violence  which  gives  him  tlie  appearance  of  being  in 
the  wrong.     Don't  you  think  it  absurd  that  the  Emperor 

*  Lacuee  de  Cesson,  who  was  born  in  1752  and  died  in  1841,  had  been  in 
the  army.  His  writings  are  exclusively  on  the  art  of  war.  He  belonged  to  the 
class  of  moral  and  political  science,  and  to  the  class  of  languages  and  literature, 
viz.,  to  the  French  Academy,  from  the  year  1803. 


THE  DUBIOUS  FUTURE.  203 

should  be  disturbed  from  the  great  questions  that  absorb  him 
by  all  these  paltry  vanities  ? 

The  Empress's  departure  for  Berlin  is  becoming  known 
here,  and  is  greatly  regretted.  It  is  said  openly  that  the 
Emperor  will  not  return  this  winter.  I  still  hope  that  noth- 
ing is  settled,  or  how  many  more  days  of  sadness  and  ennui 
will  have  to  be  endured!  I  await  letters  from  you  with 
impatience,  and  try  to  believe  you  will  not  write,  "  I  am 
going." 

Nearly  all  our  friends  have  returned ;  Mme.  d'lloudetot 
is  expected  on  Monday.  AVe  shall  begin  our  Wednesdays 
at  once,  and  you  will  be  much  missed.  You  already  know 
how  I  shall  pass  my  time ;  I  shall  be  much  at  home,  for,  in 
default  of  other  pleasures,  I  can  enjoy  my  favorite  laziness, 
which  I  regard  as  almost  as  good  a  defense  for  women  as 
virtue,  but  not  nearly  so  good  as  love.  I  am  afraid  you  will 
not  admire  this  remark.  Eortunately,  you  are  tolerably  sure, 
I  think,  of  those  three  safeguards,  and  you  can  scarcely  ob- 
ject to  my  preferring  the  latter. 


CV. 


TO    M.    DE   REMUS  AT,    AT   MAYENCE. 

Paris,  December  5,  1S06. 
I  KNOW  not  what  to  think  of  our  future.  War  is  reviv- 
ing; the  foreign  kings  seem  struck  with  blindness.  The 
measures  taken  by  the  Emperor  are  too  imposing  to  be 
judged  by  the  ordinary  standards  of  human  reason.  The 
worst  is  that  people  are  not  sufficiently  convinced  of  the  in- 
sufficiency of  their  judgment  in  times  like  these,  and  every- 
body investigates,  thinks,  and  concludes  according  to  his  own 
mind  or  his  own  interests.  I  admit  that  this  makes  society 
distasteful  to  me ;  the  issues  involved  in  the  coming  events 


204  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  R^MUSA  T. 

of  tliis  winter  are  too  great  for  me  to  endure  with  patience 
the  arguments  of  a  crowd  of  idlers  who  know  nothing,  and 
yet  are  always  talking  and  pronouncing  judgment.  I  pre- 
fer, therefore,  to  live  in  retirement  with  a  few  friends  who 
can  understand  and  sympathize  with  me.  But  even  when 
alone,  I  am  not  free  from  alarm.  The  Emperor  is  so  far 
away,  and  surrounded  with  constantly  recurring  dangers ! 
Will  his  good  genius  always  preserve  him  ?  Are  the  trou- 
bles of  France  quite  at  an  end  ?  And  then  yourself  ?  How 
long  will  it  be  before  I  see  you  again  ?  Sometimes  I  have 
the  courage  to  wish  you  were  at  Berlin ;  at  others  I  wish 
you  were  not  going  to  leave  Mayence  ;  but  I  resist  this  feel- 
ing because  it  is  selfish,  and  because  it  is  only  I  who  would 
suifer  from  the  increased  distance  between  us,  while  you,  in 
attendance  on  the  Emperor,  with  more  occupation  and  feel- 
ing yourself  useful — you  would  be  happier.  There  were 
momentary  hopes  here  of  their  Majesties'  return,  and  now 
the  certainty  of  their  absence  has  caused  something  like  con- 
sternation. Paris  is  like  a  dead  body — it  has  neither  life 
nor  motion ;  and  as  the  dullness  of  our  life  here,  and  your 
absence,  reduce  me  to  the  pleasures  of  reflection  only,  I  find 
myself  reflecting  by  my  fireside  on  the  influence — which, 
though  seemingly  purely  imaginary  at  a  first  glance,  is  hap- 
pily very  real  in  fact — that  is  exercised  by  one  man  over  a 
vast  crowd  of  beings  to  all  appearance  like  himself.  By 
what  degrees  has  this  result  been  brought  about  in  the  social 
order?  This  would  be  a  curious  and  interesting  study.  But 
it  would  be  very  difficult  for  my  poor  brain  to  consider  the 
subject  for  any  length  of  time,  nor  should  I  have  sufficient 
capacity,  even  were  I  in  perfect  health.  Yet  how  can  I 
avoid  serious  thought  when  our  interests  are  all  involved  in 
the  question  ?  You  may  imagine  the  discussions  that  are 
held  concerning  the  last  decree  against  trade  with  England.* 

*  This  wa3  the  Berlin  decree  that  placed  the  British  Isles  in  a  state  of 
blockade,  forbade  all  trade  or  correspondence  with  them,  and  declared  all  prop- 
erty belonging  to  British  subjects  confiscated. 


MAURY  BURNS  HIS  SERMONS.  205 

Ah!  mon  ami,  it  is  neither  pleasant  nor  easy  to  govern 
mankind ! 

...  1  have  not  yet  met  M.  Azais.  You  shall  have  an 
accurate  account  of  him,  since  he  interests  you.  The  party 
has  been  put  off  on  account  of  my  health,  and  I  am  glad  of 
it,  for  I  think  one  must  want  a  clear  head  to  launch  into 
metaphysics.  You  have  probably  seen  by  the  newspapers 
the  new  resolution  that  has  been  taken  by  the  Institute.  It 
now  seems  that  the  final  decision  does  rest  with  the  Em- 
peror. Did  I  tell  you  Cardinal  Maury  informed  an  acquaint- 
ance of  mine  that,  having  been  for  a  moment  tempted  to 
publish  his  sermons,  he  had  read  them  over,  and  then 
Ijurned  them  without  mercy,  as  too  philosophical  ? 

.  .  .  Adieu ;  my  head  is  aching,  and  I  must  take  some 
rest.  I  think  it  is  very  polite  of  you  to  learn  German ;  to 
my  mind,  it  is  for  foreigners  to  learn  French.  .  .  . 


CVI. 

TO  M.  DE  REMUSAT,  AT  MAYENCE. 

Paris,  December  12,  1806. 

I  COULD  not  let  Mme.  de  Lagrange  *  leave  Paris  without 
giving  her  a  small  packet  for  you,  and  as  this  is  a  safe  oppor- 
tunity, I  send  your  son's  letter,  which  I  did  not  like  to  trust 
to  the  post.  You  will  see  how  clever  it  is ;  and  it  is  entirely 
his  own.  You  answered  it  charmingly,  and  he  has  no  idea 
but  that  you  received  it  long  ago.  You  will  tell  me  what 
you  think  of  it.f 

*  Mme.  de  Lagrange  was  the  daughter  of  Mme.  de  Talhouet,  one  of  the 
Ladies-in-Waiting. 

f  It  is  certainly  an  abuse  of  the  liberty  granted  to  an  editor  of  private  corre- 
spondence to  publish  the  letter  of  a  child  nine  years  old.  Unless,  however, 
I  am  greatly  mi.staken,  the  interest  attaching  to  the  development  of  this  youth- 
ful mind,  which  from  the  first  was  so  remarkable,  and  which  was  destined  to 
become  so  famous,  is  one  of  the  attractions  of  this  correspondence.     The  inci- 


206  LETTERS   OF  MADAME  DE  REMUS  AT. 

I  grieve  to  see  by  your  letters  that  you  are  so  very  dull, 
and  I  sometimes  think  that  if  this  lasts  I  ought  to  ask  leave 
to  join  you,  and  I  might,  perhaps,  obtain  it.  But  I  will  not 
conceal  from  you  that  it  would  be  painful  for  me  in  many 
ways  to  do  this.  The  greatest  difficulty  would  be  the  cost, 
which  I  am  not  well  able  to  meet  at  present ;  then  the  chil- 
dren, Charles  especially,  who  requires  a  stricter  supervision 
than  my  mother's,  and,  besides,  she  very  naturally  dislikes 
the  post  of  governess ;  and,  lastly,  my  health.,  though  I  do 
not  think  it  would  suffer  materially.  Therefore,  if  at  any 
moment  you  consider  my  presence  desirable,  just  say  the 
word  and  I  will  take  the  necessary  steps.  Does  the  Empress 
ever  mention  the  subject  ?  You  can  reply  without  going 
into  particulars,  for  we  ouglit  to  be  very  prudent  in  our  cor- 
respondence, and,  if  1  may  say  so,  I  think  you  are  not  suffi- 
ciently cautious.  There  are  sometimes  philosophical  senti- 
ments in  your  letters  which  might  give  offense.  It  is  an 
additional  sorrow  not  to  be  able  even  to  write  to  each  other 
freely  at  such  a  distance,  but  we  must  make  up  our  minds  to 
every  sacrifice,  and  hope  that  this  one  may  procure  us  a  long 

dent  also  furnifihes  an  additional  instance  of  the  terror  inspired  by  tlie  Em- 
peror's police,  and  the  resolution  taken  by  my  grandmother  not  to  forward  the 
letter  by  the  ordinary  post,  affords  an  explanation  of  much  of  her  reticence,  and 
also  of  many  expressions  which  seem  out  of  harmony  with  her  later  writings. 
The  following  is  the  letter,  which  I  have  already  given  in  a  note  to  the 
Memoirs : 

"  Wednesday. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  my  dear  papa,  for  not  having  written  to  you  sooner 
Mamma  told  you,  probably,  of  Gustave's  accident ;  he  is  a  little  better.  We  are 
all  quite  well.  I  have  been  to  the  Musee.  The  pictures  I  like  best  are  'Jeanne 
de  Navarre'  and  those  by  Richard.  I  do  not  like  the  'Deluge'  much.  M. 
Ilalma  is  pleased  with  me ;  I  work  harder  than  I  did  at  Auteuil.  We  often  go 
to  see  my  aunt ;  she  is  not  very  gay,  because  she  feels  anxious.  We  hear  that 
the  Emperor  is  everywhere  victorious,  and  that  we  shall  march  into  Berlin  as 
we  did  into  Vienna.  His  conquests  are  worse  than  those  of  Alexander  or  Cyrus. 
That  line  of  Phedre  may  be  applied  to  Paris :  Humiles  laborant  ubi  polentes 
dissident.  I  am  now  reading  in  RoUin  about  Alexander  and  Demosthenes.  I  do 
not  like  Philip ;  he  is  too  ambitious.  But  I  love  you  better  than  all  of  them. 
Adieu,  my  dear  papa.  Charles." 


THE  CAMPAIGN-  UNPOPULAR.  207 

peace.  Peace !  it  is  scarcely  lioped  for  here.  Discontent 
and  discouragement  prevail  everywhere ;  people  suffer  and 
complain  openly.  This  campaign  does  not  produce  a  quar- 
ter of  the  effect  of  the  last.  There  is  neither  admiration  nor 
even  astonishment ;  we  have  become  accustomed  to  miracles  ; 
the  bulletins  receive  no  applause  when  read  at  the  theatres ; 
in  short,  the  universal  feeling  is  bad — I  might  even  say  it  is 
unjust,  for  it  may  happen  to  the  strongest  men  to  be  led 
farther  than  they  wish  to  go  by  circumstances,  and  I  can  not 
believe  that  a  superior  mind  will  seek  for  glory  in  war  alone. 
Add  to  this  the  conscription  and  the  last  new  decree  on  com- 
merce !  All  these  things  are  pabulum  for  our  ill-wishei-s, 
who  judge  of  them  unreasonably,  and  see  nothing  but  the 
effects  of  passion  in  the  measures  I  speak  of.  I  am  far  from 
presuming  to  judge  them,  but,  in  spite  of  all  I  hear,  I  must 
needs  admire  and  rely  on  the  power  that  is  arbiter  of  the 
fate  of  all  those  I  hold  dear. 

You  will  write  to  me  as  soon  as  you  are  able  after  receiv- 
ing this  letter.  I  could  not  resist  the  opportunity  of  con- 
versing freely  with  you.  It  is  sad  to  spend  my  life  thus  in 
suspense  and  separation ;  sometimes  even  displeased  with 
friends  who  do  not  share  opinions  that  I  believe  to  be  right 
because  they  are  moderate.  All  these  things  depress,  agi- 
tate, or  disturb  me.  The  future  alarms  me,  and  I  long  for 
you  to  restore  me  to  calnmess  and  hope. 


CVII. 

TO  M.  DE  REMUSAT,  AT  MAYENCE. 

Paris,  December  I4,  1S06. 

.  .  .  "Well,  I  have  at  last  seen  this  M.  Azais,  and,  after 

hearing  him  talk  for  three  hours,  I  was  inclined  to  say,  as 

Portalis  said  of  La  Harpe,  that  my  throat  was  sore  with 

listening  to  him.     The  man  is  certainly  mad,  and  all  the 


208  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  BMDSAT. 

more  so  that  lie  lias  missed  his  age,  and  in  this  one  will 
neither  obtain  the  altar  he  thinks  he  deserves,  nor  the  perse- 
cution for  which  he  is  prepared.  Picture  to  yourself  a  thin 
and  pale  individual  of  about  fifty,  dreamy  and  cold  in  man- 
ner, indifferent  to  all  conversation  except  on  his  own  subject, 
ignorant  of  what  is  taking  place  in  the  world.  He  rouses 
himseK  only  when  a  certain  chord  is  struck ;  that  chord  is 
his  system  of  philosophy.  Then  he  rises  from  his  seat,  his 
countenance  brightens,  he  begins  to  explain.  I^othing  can 
then  stop  him ;  he  goes  on  for  two,  three,  and  four  hours 
without  a  break.  He  speaks  with  great  facility,  his  elocu- 
tion is  admirable,  and  his  own  conviction  intense.  To  any 
and  every  objection  he  only  replies,  "  You  will  believe  me 
when  you  have  read  my  ten  volumes,"  and  it  is  said  that  in 
these  ten  volumes  he  has  explained,  or  tried  to  explain,  all 
that  the  learned  have  merely  discovered.  He  opposes  I^ew- 
ton  and  all  the  physicists ;  he  upsets  parts  of  the  astronomi- 
cal system ;  he  regulates  the  universe  according  to  his  own 
ideas,  so  as  to  arrive  at  his  favorite  principle  and  only  aim, 
which  is  to  prove  that  order  and  virtue  are  necessary  to  the 
organic  system  of  the  world,  and  that  the  health  of  mankind 
will  improve  in  proportion  to  the  number  of  their  good 
actions.  He  asserts  that  this  system  of  morality  thus  brought 
within  the  reach  of  every  one,  will  triumphantly  take  the 
place  of  religion,  now  on  the  decline,  and  of  the  authority  of 
government.  While  talking,  he  reveals  his  belief  in  a  first 
cause  whom  he  calls  the  great  jprojprietor.  Beyond  this,  he 
is  quite  a  materialist — holds  the  soul  to  be  only  a  collection 
of  ideas ;  ideas  themselves  to  be  but  bodies  produced  in  us 
by  the  concurrence  of  I  forget  what  fluids,  which  form  in 
our  brain  the  image  of  the  object  that  has  struck  us. 

But  I  feel  I  must  now  take  breath.  I  will  return  to  this 
extraordinary  man  on  another  occasion.  I  am  rather  glad, 
on  the  whole,  to  have  heard  him  talk  ;  for,  notwithstanding 
the  fragile  foundation  of  his  theories,  he  is  so  clever  in  find- 
ing proofs,  and  so  fertile  in  their  expression,  that  he  excites 


THE  EMPEROR  PAUL.  209 

interest.  Our  men  of  science  will  have  nothing  to  do  with 
liim.  lie  appeals  to  posterity  and  to  the  Emperor,  with 
whom  he  claims  equality  in  the  moral  world.  The  guests  at 
breakfast  were  Pasquier,  Mole,  and  Dorion ;  they  held  their 
own  well  in  the  discussion.  Mme.  Pastoret  talked  very 
cleverly.  As  for  me,  I  could  not  venture  to  meddle  with 
such  matters,  but  I  made  my  own  private  reflections  on  the 
curious  mania  which  leads  mankind  to  wander  in  search  of 
all  the  mysteries  surrounding  them,  while  they  fail  to  under- 
stand themselves  in  almost  all  the  circumstances  of  life. 


CIX. 

TO   M.    DE   EEMUSAT,    AT   MAYENCE. 

Paris,  December  23,  1806. 

The  Empress's  return  is  still  looked  for  here,  but  I  do 
not  hope  for  it,  and  I  think  that  for  the  next  few  months  I 
shall  escape  the  grief  of  disapj^ointment,  for  I  am  not  caught 
in  any  of  the  snares  laid  by  hope  for  others.  I  wish  for  you, 
my  dearest,  but  dare  not  expect  you.  Alix  heard  yesterday 
from  her  husband.  She  had  had  no  news  from  him  for  a 
month,  and  was  in  an  anxious  state.  lie  is  in  good  health, 
and  stationed  beyond  Posen,  far  from  headquarters,  with 
which  communication  is  difficult.  May  Heaven  watch  over 
him  and  bring  him  back  to  us  ! 

I  met  a  person  yesterday  who  was  at  St.  Petersburg  at 
the  time  of  the  death  of  Paul  I.,  and  who  gave  me  some 
curious  particulars.  Poland  reminds  me  of  them,  because 
Benningsen,*  now  in  command  of  the  Russians,  was  the 
man  who  struck  the  first  blow.  The  task  was  intrusted  to 
him,  and  he  took  the  lead  of  the  conspirators,  who  all  felt  a 
momentary  panic  on  entering  the  apartments  of  the  Czar. 

*  Count  Benningsen,  a  Russian  general,  born  in  1745,  died  in  1826. 


210  LETTERS   OE  MADAME  DE  REMUSAT'. 

Benningsen  encouraged  tliem,  and  knocked  down  the  hussar 
on  guard  at  the  door.  The  man's  cries  warned  the  Emperor, 
who  sprang  from  his  bed  and  hid  behind  a  screen.  The 
murderers  entered  the  room,  and  not  seeing  liim,  wanted  to 
withdraw;  their  chief  ordered  them  to  remain,  searched 
everywhere,  and  at  Last  caught  sight  of  part  of  the  Emper- 
or's clothing  which  projected  beyond  the  screen.  Seizing 
him  by  the  hair,  he  dragged  him  to  the  middle  of  the  room 
and  struck  the  tirst  blow  with  his  dagger ;  the  others  then 
finished  him.  And  this  man  is  now  commandins  Alexan- 
der's  army !  He  is  a  bad  man,  incapable  of  the  least  gener- 
osity, cruel  to  his  enemies  and  harsh  to  his  inferiors,  and  will 
incite  the  Russians  to  all  the  excesses  they  may  commit  in 
their  retreat.  But  since  we  are  marching  upon  him,  his  hour 
is  probably  near. 

In  order  to  revive  Paris  a  little,  the  Princesses  and  the 
Archchancellor  have  begun  to  entertain,  and  are  giving  balls. 
On  Sunday  the  Archchancellor  gave  one  ;  there  were  a  good 
many  women,  but  very  few  partners  for  them,  and  but  for  a 
contingent  of  pages,  who  were  sent  for,  I  don't  know  what 
would  have  happened.  The  Princesses  are  also  going  to  give 
fetes,  but  none  of  these  things  will  be  pleasure.  I  am  not 
even  sure  whether  the  contrast  of  noise  and  movement  with 
the  mood  of  the  guests  will  not  increase  the  melancholy 
caused  by  the  absence  of  so  many  beloved  ones.  For  my 
own  part,  my  heart  ached  at  the  sight  of  the  Emperor's 
empty  chair,  and  at  the  thought  of  the  distance  that  sejja- 
rates  him  from  us,  exposed  as  he  is  to  so  much  fatigue  and 
danger  ;  and  with  such  feelings,  the  sound  of  gayety  and  music 
inclined  me  to  serious  thought,  if  not  to  tears.  But  his  re- 
turn— his  return  alone  can  revive  us  and  make  us  susceptible 
of  pleasure  by  bestowing  on  us  tranquillity  of  mind. 

I  met  some  of  my  colleagues  at  Cambaceres's,  but  only  a 
few ;  we  are  all  rather  scattered.  Mme.  de  Serrant  is  pass- 
ing the  winter  at  her  place  in  the  country ;  Mme.  Talliouet, 
who  came  to  Paris  for  a  passing  visit,  has  just  returned  home, 


SOCIETY  GOSSIP.  211 

and  can  talk  only  of  the  delights  of  rurality ;  Mme.  de  Lu- 
§ay  never  leaves  St.  Gratien,  where  M.  de  Lugay  is  very 
happy.  Ilis  daughter  lives  with  her  mother-in-law,  Mme. 
de  Segur.*  Mme.  Savary  is  in  an  interesting  condition, 
greatly  altered,  and  very  nmch  alone.  Mme.  Duchatel  is  in 
the  same  state.  She  looks  lovely,  dances,  and  goes  every- 
where. I  have  seen  Mme.  Brignole ;  she  is  a  pleasant  wo- 
man, and  I  could  get  on  with  her  if  our  terms  of  waiting 
fall  together.  If  you  care  to  hear  the  nonsense  that  is 
talked  here,  I  must  tell  you  that  people  say  Mme.  de  la 
Rochefoucauld  is  resigning  her  place,  and  will  be  succeeded 
by  Mme,  de  Montmorency ;  f  also  that  the  Emperor  intends 
on  his  return  to  appoint  a  Gouverneur  des  Princes^  and  that 
your  name  figures  on  the  list.:};  I  laughed  at  this  last  piece 
of  news.  However,  if  this  should  be  the  case,  as  seems  so 
likely^  P''^y  grant  my  request  and  let  me  be  appointed  to 
give  the  lessojis.  Every  day  qualifies  me  better  for  such  a 
post,  and  I  venture  to  say  you  will  be  satisfied  with  my  zeal. 


ex. 

TO  M.  DE  REMUSAT,  AT  MATENCE. 

Paris,  T/iursda;/,  December  25,  1806. 

I  DoiTBT,  mon  ami^  whether  my  head  will  be  able  to  hold 
all  that  has  been  stuffed  into  it  lately,  and,  unless  we  take  care, 
I  am  really  afraid  that  on  your  retuiTi  you  will  find  an  office- 
like air  al)out  your  salon.,  and  in  my  mother  and  me  a  like- 
ness to  Catau  and  Madelcm.  Within  the  next  week  I  shall 
have  listened  to  three  tragedies,  a  comedy  in  five  acts,  and 
an  opera  comique.     All  the  rest  of  Paris  is  asleep,  but  the 

*  Mme.  (Ic  Segur,  wife  of  the  Comtc  de  Segur,  had  been  Mile.  d'Aguesscau. 
She  was,  therefore,  aunt  to  Mme.  Octave  de  Segur,  her  son's  wife, 
•j-  ^Illc.  de  Matignon. 
\  This  appointment  of  tutor  to  the  Princes  was  not  made. 


212  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  R&MUSAT. 

literary  world  is  awake,  and,  on  account  of  our  position,  the 
smallest  scribbler  must  endeavor  to  obtain  your  protection 
through  my  intervention.  Aignan*  has  just  finished  his 
tragedy,  and  has  asked  me  to  name  a  day  for  his  reading  it ; 
on  Friday  I  am  to  hear  "  Les  Etats  de  Blois " ;  M.  Dorion 
keeps  a  comedy  in  verse  in  his  pocket ;  Duval  has  finished 
an  opera  called  "  Joseph,"  which  is  highly  praised ;  Mme. 
Simons,  still  writing,  persecutes  me.  In  vain  do  I  make  ex- 
cuses ;  I  must  not  be  uncivil,  and  I  devote  myself.  Merotte 
is  amused  by  this,  and  we  do  our  best  to  deceive  all  the  au- 
thors who  ask  so  disinterestedly  for  our  advice. 

The  Fran§ais  is  doing  pretty  well  this  year.  I  think  it  is 
the  best-attended  theatre.  Thev  are  acting  "  Venceslas " 
successfully  ;  Talma  is  very  fine  in  certain  parts,  but  the  rest 
of  the  play  was  badly  acted.  Lafond  continues  to  act  in 
comedy ;  he  did  not  succeed  so  well  in  the  "  Glorieux  "  as  in 
the  other  plays.  The  public  were  disappointed,  for  they  had 
been  looking  forward  to  this  impersonation.  This  proves  that 
it  is  a  mistake  to  suppose  an  actor  will  represent  cleverly  a 
defect  or  habit  that  resembles  his  own  defects  or  habits.  For 
if  he  attempts  this,  he  gives  way  to  his  natural  leaning,  ex- 
aggerates, and  acts  badly.  Lafond,  who  is  naturally  rather 
stiff,  was  altogether  heavy  in  "Le  Glorieux,"  and  Mile. 
Duchesnois,  w^hose  voice  is  naturally  tender  and  touching, 

*  Aignan,  born  in  1773,  died  in  1824,  a  member  of  the  French  Academy  in 
1814,  was  the  writer  of  some  translations  and  some  tragedies.  The  tragedy 
mentioned  was  probably  "  Brunehaiit  ou  les  Successeurs  de  Clovis."  Raynou- 
ard's  tragedy  of  the  "  Etats  de  Blois  "  was  performed  before  the  Court  only,  in 
1810,  and  was  not  acted  in  public  until  the  Restoration.  II.  Dorion  was  a  poet 
whom  my  grandfather  had  met  during  his  stay  at  Cauterets.  He  died  in  1829, 
in  his  seventy-first  year.  lie  wrote  no  comedies  for  the  theatre,  and  only  pub- 
lished two  epic  poems,  now  forgotten,  "  Palmyre  Conquise  "  and  "  La  Bataille 
d'Hastings."  Alexander  Duval,  who  died,  in  1842,  at  the  age  of  eighty,  is  the 
well-known  author  of  a  great  many  dramas  and  comedies.  He  had  been  a  sailor, 
a  soldier,  an  engineer,  director  of  the  Od6on,  and  was  finally  made  a  member  of 
the  French  Academy  in  1812.  The  opera  of  "Joseph"  remains  in  the  reper- 
tory, probably  on  account  of  Mehul's  music,  though  the  play  is  not  without  in- 
terest. 


M.   DE  TALLEYRAND.  213 

assumes  a  monotonous  sing-song  in  parts  which  are  exclu- 
sively pathetic. 

I  saw  M.  Dorion  yesterday ;  he  told  me  that  M.  de  Tal- 
leyrand and  Maret  had  been  upset  in  their  carriage  in  Poland, 
but  nothine:  serious  had  ensued.  It  seems  that  the  roads  are 
extremely  bad  and  the  climate  damp.  So  far,  none  of  our 
friends  in  the  army  have  suffered  from  the  hardships  of  the 
campaign.  By-the-by,  have  you  any  news  of  M.  de  Caulain- 
court  ?  I  have  not  seen  any  of  his  family,  nor  have  I  heard 
anything  of  them.  If  you  are  writing  to  him,  say  a  word  or 
two  from  me.  I  had  some  thoughts  of  writing  to  him  my- 
self, but  he  has  enough  to  do  without  having  to  answer  letters 
from  me.  I  will  write  to  M.  de  Talleyrand  so  soon  as  I 
know  the  protocol ;  but  I  feel  it  will  be  rather  a  difficult  task, 
and,  notwithstanding  your  favorable  judgment,  I  must  admit 
that  I  find  it  difficult  to  write  unless  I  can  rely  on  the  sym- 
pathy of  my  correspondent.  I  come  to  a  full  stop  when  I 
reflect  that  M.  de  Talleyrand  must  be  perfectly  indifferent 
to  the  subjects  on  which  I  usually  write,  and  which  occupy 
my  mind  while  you  are  away.  He  gives  an  account  of  his 
accident  to  Mme.  Devaines,  and  reminds  her  that  last  year 
he  wrote  to  her  from  Presburg,  and  this  year  from  Warsaw. 
"  God  knows,"  he  adds,  *'  where  I  may  be  next  year ! " 
Heaven  grant  he  may  be  in  the  Kue  d'Anjou  !  * 


CXI. 


TO   M.    DE    REMUSAT,    AT   MATENCE. 

Pauis,  December  28,  180G. 

...  I  AM  very  glad  you  have  received  your  son's  k-t- 
ter,  and  I  think  you  must  be  pleased  with  it  ;  he  is  going  to 
write  to  you  again  to-morrow.     He  has  long  meant  to  do  so, 

*  M.  dc  Talleyrand's  house  was  in  the  Rue  d'Anjou  St.  Uonor6. 


214  LETTERS   OF  MADAME  DE  RI^MUSAT. 

but  has  some  difficulty,  because  of  his  natural  indolence, 
and  also  because  he  is  working  harder.  Ilalma  has  thought 
well  to  begin  mathematics  with  him  ;  this  makes  an  additional 
task,  and,  besides,  games  are  the  ordei-  of  the  day. 

Gustavo  is  quite  strong  again,  and  little  Carignan  *  is  a 
great  friend  of  Charles,  lie  brings  other  little  friends  in 
of  an  evening,  and  they  are  continually  at  games  and  ex- 
ercises. With  all  this  our  boy's  health  is  good.  He  grows 
fast,  is  strong,  and  not  too  ugly.  I  sometimes  remark  a  ten- 
der and  intelligent  look  in  his  eyes  that  reminds  me  of  eyes 
whose  expression  goes  straight  to  my  heart.  When  shall  I 
see  them  again — those  eyes  that  tell  me  I  am  beloved  and 
happy  ?     And,  oh  !   how  happy  I  could  be  ! 

We  heard  "  Les  Etats  de  Blois  "  at  Mme.  Pastouret's 
yesterday.  Lafond  read  the  play  to  a  numerous  company. 
It  was  thought  rather  dull,  but  well  written,  and  the  char- 
acters cleverly  drawn.  The  Due  de  Guise  is  very  fine,  Henri 
III.  well  portrayed ;  there  is  a  capital  Crillon,  and  a  leaguer 
exactly  like  the  Jacobins  at  the  beginning  of  the  Revolution. 
The  part  of  Henri  IV.  contains  several  beautiful  and  pathetic 
lines,  but  he  harps  too  much  on  his  love  for  the  French,  and 
frequently  repeats  himself.  The  style  is  polished  and  lofty, 
but  somewhat  cold ;  in  a  word,  the  play  is  wanting  in  action, 
and  it  is  quite  possible  that  at  your  theatre  it  might  only  meet 
with  what  you  call  a  succes  cCestime. 

Mile.  Raucourt  has  returned,  and  is  going  to  act  in 
"Pyrrhus."  After  that  a  play  by  Lemercier  will  be  pro- 
duced. ... 

*  The  Princess  de  Carignan,  who  was  supposed  to  have  married  M.  de 
;\Iontleard,  Auditor  of  the  State  Council,  resided  on  the  first  floor  of  the 
house  on  the  Boulevard  de  la  Madeleine.  Her  son,  Charles  Albert,  was  my 
father's  playfellow,  and  about  the  same  age.  He  was  tall,  ugly,  and  awk- 
ward, and  the  butt  of  his  companions.  My  father  and  M.  de  Grasse  still 
laughed  sometimes  at  these  recollections  when  I  was  a  child.  None  the  less, 
however,  was  he  a  chivalrous  and  patriotic  king  from  1831  to  1840,  and  the 
father  of  the  founder  of  the  kingdom  of  Italy,  the  great  Victor  Emmanuel. 


AFTER  AN  INTERVAL.  215 

The  letters  of  the  early  part  of  the  year  1807  are  almost 
entirely  devoid  of  general  interest.  The  correspondence  is 
resumed  in  July  of  that  year,  when  Mme.  de  Ilemusat  is  at 
Aix-la-Chapelle,  and  associating  chiefly  witii  the  De  Lameth 
family.  The  Russian  campaign  had  not  yet  assumed  its  dis- 
astrous character ;  the  battle  of  Friedland  had  been  fought 
on  the  14th  of  June,  1807.  An  important  event  liad  oc- 
curred in  the  interval  over  which  we  pass,  i.  e.,  the  death  of 
the  eldest  son  of  Louis  Bonaparte,  King  of  Holland,  to  whom 
the  Law  of  Heredity  had  secured  the  succession.  The  child's 
death,  the  effect  on  the  Emperor,  the  Empress,  and  Queen 
llortense,  and  the  influence  which  it  exerted  in  the  matter 
of  the  divorce,  are  dwelt  upon  in  the  "  Memoirs''  at  consid- 
erable length. 


CXXIX. 


TO    M.    DE    REMUSAT,    AT    PARIS. 


Aix-la-Chapelle,  July  24,  1S07. 

I  SHALL  now  be  longing  for  letters,  and  suffering  from 
terrible  curiosity.  It  seems  strange  to  be  so  far  removed 
from  these  great  events  and  important  interests.  Lemarrois  * 
passed  through  this  place  yesterday  on  his  way  to  drink  the 
waters  at  Spa.  While  changing  horses,  he  sent  us  a  compli- 
mentary message ;  I  should  have  much  liked  to  have  seen 
him,  and  I  am  rather  vexed  with  him  for  being  in  such  a 
huriy.  My  neighbor  here  has  received  a  letter  from  the 
army  in  a  handwriting  she  does  not  know,  and  without  sig- 
nature, giving  her  an  account  of  the  principal  conditions  of 
peace.     We  easily  guessed  at  the  writer.     By  the  time  you 

*  General  Lemarrois  had  just  been  appointed  Governor  of  Warsaw.     lie 
died  in  1836. 


21G  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  RKMUSAT. 

receive  this  I  conclude  you  will  be  fully  infonned  of  every- 
thing, so  I  will  not  attempt  to  tell  you  any  news. 

I  passed  yesterday  evening  at  the  house  of  a  merchant, 
who  talked  a  great  deal  about  you.  You  accompanied  the 
Emperor,  he  told  me,  when  his  Majesty  visited  the  factory 
belonging  to  this  wealthy  and  hospitable  M,  "Vermonteu. 
There  are  frequent  assemblies  at  the  various  merchants' 
houses  here,  and  without  giving  ourselves  the  airs  of  Court 
ladies,  we  can  not  absent  ourselves  from  them.  I  behave 
admirably,  playing  at  cards  with  great  courage.  I  shall 
become  an  expert  whist-player.  Happily,  my  mornings  are 
my  own,  and  they  do  not  seem  so  tedious  as  I  feared  they 
would.  .  .  . 


cxxx. 


TO   M.  DE   REMUSAT,    AT   PARIS. 


Aix-la-Chapelle,  July  26,  1S07. 

I  THINK  by  this  time  the  Emperor  must  be  in  Paris.  I 
dreamed  last  night  that  I  saw  him,  and  fell  weeping  on  his 
neck.  What  a  relief  it  is  to  know  that  he  is  in  Paris,  and 
that  peace  is  made ! 

We  can  now  look  back  and  see  with  astonishment  how 
long  we  have  been  walking  on  the  edge  of  a  precipice.  We 
are  safe  at  last,  and  the  little  speck  in  the  universe,  called 
the  earth,  is  safe  too ;  for  everything  depends  on  that  one 
life.  "A  few  officers  have  already  made  their  appearance 
here,  drinking  the  waters  to  cure  their  rheumatism.  By-the- 
by,  I  was  told  yesterday  that  General  Loyson,  who  lost  an 
arm  last  year,  not  at  Austerlitz,  where  he  was  much  exposed 
to  danger,  but  at  a  shooting  party,  took  it  into  his  head  to 
have  it  embalmed  and  fastened  by  some  sort  of  mechanism 
to  his  shoulder.  He  says  he  will  not  relinquish  anything 
given  him  by  nature,  and  he  prefers  a  dead  arm  at  his  side 


A2f  EMBALM  ED  ARM.  217 

to  none  at  all.  Only  imagine  the  eiiect  this  pale,  cold  hand 
will  produce  on  any  one  who  touches  it ! 

There  is  another  young  and  strikingly  handsome  man 
here,  who  also  lost  an  arm  at  Eylau.  He  makes  no  attempt 
at  hiding  it,  but  carries  his  coat-sleeve  in  a  sling,  and  dances 
all  the  more  gayly,  waltzing,  springing,  and  whirling  about. 
He  is  noticed  and  sought  after,  while,  perhaps,  had  he  no 
limb  wanting,  he  would  not  be  looked  at.  .  .  . 

I  like  the  Lameth  family.  The  mother  is  a  good  woman, 
so  is  the  daughter,  and  the  son-in-law  is  excellent.  They  are 
a  united  family,  and  seem  happy,  and  I  like  to  witness  happi- 
ness. Mme.  de  Nicolai's  *  happiness  is  the  result  of  a  love 
match ;  that  rascally  little  god  is  occasionally  of  some  use, 
and  I  don't  think  him  altogether  out  of  place  in  marriage. 
Are  you  not  of  my  opinion  ?  The  Prefect  is  agreeable ;  he 
has  more  talent  than  the  others,  but  is  not  quite  so  good- 
natured.  He  is,  however,  most  attentive  to  us.  He  told 
me  he  had  met  a  retired  officer  at  Digne,  who  is  related  to 
you,  and  who  likes  you  very  much.  His  name  is  Salves  or 
Salles,f  or  something.  He  has  heard  you  much  spoken  of. 
How  on  earth  did  he  discover  that  you  were  a  very  clever 
and  agreeable  man  ?  He  also  talked  to  me  of  my  father, 
whom  he  knew  well,  and  of  my  mother,  who  was  considered 
a  very  superior  woman.  I  do  not  know  where  he  has  not 
lived.  He  is  tolerably  popular  here.  The  people  are  not 
very  French  as  yet ;  time  and  tact  are  needed  for  this. 

Will  you  be  surprised  to  hear  that  I  am  at  the  end  of  the 
fourth  canto  of  Yirgil,  at  the  last  letter  but  one  of  my  novel, 
and  that  I  have  all  but  finished  the  chair  I  am  working  % 
Moreover,  I  am  improving  on  the  guitar,  and  I  am  a  Due 
de  Laval  at  whist.  It  is  only  in  love  for  you  that  I  can 
make  no  progress ;  yet  this  does  not  mean  that  I  am  near 
the  end. 

I  open  my  letter  to  give  you  some  news.     Is  not  this 

*  M.  de  Nicolai  was  Mme.  dc  Lametli's  son-in-law. 
t  M.  dc  Salvc-Villcdieu. 
10 


218  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  BE  BEMU8AT. 

impertinent  ?  But  now  see  how  well  informed  we  are  ! 
This  is  what  is  reported  here.  Prince  Jerome  is  to  be  King 
of  Westphalia ;  Prince  Murat,  King  of  Poland,  under  the 
protectorate  of  Russia ;  the  Grand  Duke  Constantine,  King 
of  Servia  and  Montenegro.  This  is  the  last  news  at  Aix-la- 
Chapelle.  And  I  love  you  very  much,  which  is  no  news  at 
iill.  .  .  . 


CXXXIY. 


TO   M.    DE    EEMUSAT,    AT    ST.    CLOUD. 

Aix-la-Chapelle,  August  i^,  1807. 

Aee  you  quite  aware,  mon  ami,  that  I  start  on  my  home- 
ward journey  to-morrow  week?  Have  you  sympathized 
with  me  in  my  joy  at  the  preparations  I  am  making  for  my 
flitting?  In  truth,  I  must  give  over  grumbling  either  at  the 
few  days  I  still  have  to  remain  here,  or  even  at  our  separa- 
tion. There  is  something  so  sweet  in  the  thought  of  return, 
so  keenly  dehghtful  in  the  actual  home-coming,  that  I  feel 
tempted  to  rejoice  in  the  emotions  that  have  preceded  it. 
We  shall  soon  meet  again !  I  shall  see  my  children  and  all 
whom  I  love !  I  am  coming  home  to  you  in  better  health, 
with  heartfelt  delight,  and  with  the  satisfaction  of  having 
borne  my  exile  courageously,  and  passed  it  in  gaining  the 
advantages  that  you  wished  me  to  derive  from  it;  these 
thoughts  will  be  my  traveling  companions,  until,  in  your 
arms,  I  shall  receive  sympathy  and  reward. 

My  mother  writes  me  word  that  "  Esopo  "  was  not  a  suc- 
cess at  Court.  I  am  not  surprised ;  although  it  is  a  well- 
written  work,  I  always  thought  it  tiresome.  You  are  now 
again  in  the  tribulations  of  pleasure ;  it  is  no  easy  task  to 
have  to  provide  amusement  for  a  master,  and  especially  for 
a  conqueror,  who  for  so  long  has  had  glory  and  good  fortune 
as  ministers  to  his  pleasure.     I  always  think  that  the  Em- 


QUIET  LIFE.  219 

peror  must  find  life  at  St.  Cloud  very  insipid  after  such 
great  deeds,  and  that  quite  one  haK  of  him  must  be  at  a  loss 
for  occupation.  Such  spells  of  languor  and  ennui  are  the 
penalty  of  the  great  in  this  world,  and  are  a  compensation  to 
small  people  like  ourselves.  Talking  of  great  people,  I  have 
just  read  a  chapter  of  Montaigne  that  I  like  very  much  ;  if 
you  happen  to  meet  with  it,  pray  look  through  it  again.  It 
is  entitled  "  De  la  Constance,"  and  is  full  of  remarks  very 
applicable  to  the  twenty  years  that  have  just  expired. 
"  Those  who  first  shake  the  foundations  of  a  state,"  he  says, 
"are  actually  the  first  to  be  involved  in  its  overthrow"  ;  and, 
"  The  fruit  of  disturbance  is  seldom  reaped  by  him  who 
sowed  it "  ;  and  then,  "  The  very  best  pretext  for  novelty  is 
dangerous."  I  pointed  out  this  last  maxim  to  M.  de  Lameth, 
who  owned  that  he  thought  Montaigne  was  in  the  right. 
Do,  pray,  read  the  chapter.  I  feel  very  happy  at  the  Em- 
peror's kindness  to  M.  de  Nansouty.  There  is  something 
great  and  grand  about  his  gifts  which  harmonizes  w'cU  with 
the  gigantic  scale  of  events.  Victory  is  assuredly  the  best 
title-deed.  I  was  half  inclined  to  write  my  congratulations 
to  M.  de  Talleyrand,  but  ignorance  of  his  new  titles  pre- 
vented me.  Tell  him  this,  with  my  compliments.  Do  you 
know,  I  begin  to  like  him  very  much  because  he  appreciates 
you. 

CXXXY. 

TO   M.    DE   EEMUSAT,    AT   TAEIS.* 

Aix-LA-CiiAPELLE,  July  12,  1808. 

I  HAVE  arranged  my  life  here,  so  that  time  slips  j)leasant- 
ly  away.  I  rise  at  eight ;  drink  the  waters  until  ten  ;  then  I 
bathe  and  return  to  bed,  take  my  breakfast,  and  dawdle 

*  There  is  a  lapse  of  nearly  a  year  between  this  letter  and  the  last,  and  Muie. 
de  Vergenncs  had'died  in  the  interval.  Slinc.  de  Reniusat  bad  returned  to  Ais- 
la-Chapelle,  accompanied  by  Mnie.  de  Grassc. 


220  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  BJ^MirSAT. 

about  until  noon.  I  tlien  dress  for  tlie  day,  read,  write,  and 
sing  until  M.  Aldini's  *  arriv^al.  He  is  kind  enough  to  read 
Italian  with  me,  and,  by  the  way,  is  well  pleased  with  my 
pronunciation.  My  English  master  comes  next ;  I  engaged 
him  to  give  myself  something  to  do.  We  dine  at  live.  In 
the  evening  we  walk  out,  receive  a  few  visitors,  and  by  ten 
o'clock  we  are  all  in  bed.  In  this  way  do  I  pass  my  time 
when  far  from  you,  as  profitably  as  possible.  My  com- 
panion, who  goes  out  a  great  deal,  often  asks  me  to  accom- 
pany her,  but  I  decline  when  it  is  possible  to  do  so  without 
giving  offense ;  my  mourning  dispenses  me  from  balls,  and 
my  health  serves  as  an  excuse  for  not  joining  fatiguing  ex- 
cursions.    Moreover,  Mme.  de  is  very  intimate  this 

year  with  Mme.  K ,  and  that  would  not  suit  me.    I  fancy 

both  ladies  think  me  very  reserved  and  not  very  amusing, 
but  if  I  were  to  yield  to  them,  I  should  lose  the  good  effects 
of  my  visit  here,  and  it  costs  me  too  dear  not  to  wish  to 
utilize  it,  as  M.  Pasquier  would  say.  . 

What  you  say  of  your  own  loneliness  distresses  me  ;  it  is 
a  real  grief  to  me  to  know  you  are  so  solitary.  On  former 
occasions,  alas !  my  poor  mother  was  with  you.  I  knew  that 
you  were  together,  and  thought  myself  only  to  be  pitied ;  but 
absence,  of  which  I  know  the  pain  so  well,  is  equally  hard 
on  you  this  year,  and  thus  I  suffer  not  my  own  sorrow  only, 
but  yours  as  well.  Oh !  how  I  should  like  never  to  leave 
you !  How  sweet  life  is  at  your  side !  How  I  love  you ! 
How  happy  you  make  me !  How  closely  you  bind  me  to  a 
life  that  you  render  so  fair !  How  can  you  expect  me  not  to 
grieve  over  the  separations  entailed  by  my  delicate  health  ? 
I  can  not  but  love  my  life,  when  its  every  moment  is  glad- 
dened by  your  love.  Be  less  good  to  me,  and  I  shall  be  less 
anxious ;  teach  me  to  forget  your  caresses,  since  I  must  be 
deprived  of  them ;  prove  to  me,  at  least,  that  I  may  reckon 
on  the  peaceful  future  you  are  preparing  for  me,  and  then  I 

*  Count  Aldini,  Secretary  of  State  for  the  kingdom  of  Italy,  has  left  behind 
him  a  distinguished  reputation. 


QUIET  LIFE.  221 

can  be  patient  and  resigned.  All !  could  any  one  promise 
me  that  my  life  shall  last  as  long  as  yours,  I  should  be  re- 
stored to  ease  and  calm ;  this  is  the  only  certainty  for  which 
I  crave.  Ah  !  my  beloved,  could  we  but  travel  through  life 
together  and  quit  it  at  the  same  moment ! 

If  you  should  be  writing  to  M.  de  Talleyrand,  remember 
me  to  him,  and  say  that  I  am  leading  too  dull  a  life  to  ven- 
ture on  writing  to  him,  but  that  I  beg  him  not  to  forget  me, 
and  to  be  grateful  for  my  silence.  I  have  really  nothing  to 
say.  Life  is  short  here,  but  its  hours  are  long ;  one  must 
swallow  the  waters,  hold  one's  tongue,  and  get  away  as  soon 
as  possible.  And  this  is  what  I  intend  to  do,  so  soon  as  I 
get  my  dismissal. 


CXXXVI. 

TO   M.    DE   KEMUSAT,    AT   TAEIS. 

Aix-la-Chapelle,  Juhj  15,  1808. 

YotJ  may  be  getting  through  your  arrears  of  work,  but 
you  evidently  do  not  include  Avriting  to  us  in  the  list,  for 
you  write  very  seldom.  For  the  last  three  days  we  have 
had  not  a  word  from  any  one,  M-hether  sister,  husband,  or 
Gustave — in  fact,  we  are  altogether  forsaken ;  and  yet  we 
certainly  need  a  little  diversion,  for  our  life  is  very  monoto- 
nous.    The  heat  is  excessive.  .  .  . 

My  health  is  really  good  in  this  place.  I  can  scarcely 
attribute  the  improvement  to  the  waters,  for  as  yet  I  have 
taken  only  three  baths,  but  I  think  it  proceeds  from  the 
quietude  of  my  life,  and  this  is  an  additional  proof  that  I  am 
made  for  that  country  life  of  which  we  have  so  often  talked. 
We  really  must  contrive  to  have  a  house  in  the  country  some 
day;  I  long  for  it  more  and  more,  and  I  think  I  should  de- 
light in  rural  leisure. 

"VVe  arc  far  from  this,  as  yet,  and  you  especially,  who  are 


223  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  BE  E^MUSAT. 

about  to  resume  your  Court  life,  if  the  Emperor  *  comes  back, 
as  is  expected.  Aldini,  who  fears  he  may  soon  be  recalled  to 
Paris,  leaves  us  to-day  for  Spa.  I  shall  miss  him  exceeding- 
ly ;  his  conversation  was  both  improving  and  agreeable,  we 
got  on  capitally  in  our  Italian  dialogues,  and  he  was  always 
most  kind  to  me.  If  you  happen  to  see  him,  you  must  ex- 
press my  thanks,  and  say  that  I  miss  him  very  much.  I 
have  met  with  a  pleasant  Dutch  family  here ;  both  husband 
and  wife  are  good  musicians  ;  we  sing  together,  and  that  fills 
up  my  time  a  little.  I  employ  the  rest  as  best  I  can.  The 
Prefect  often  comes  to  see  us.  Mme.  de  Grasse  has  become 
accustomed  to  him  ;  she  likes  him  pretty  well,  but  he  is  the 
only  person  to  whom  she  will  speak ;  she  dislikes  Ger- 
mans. .  .  . 

To-day  is  Thursday,  and  I  fancy  that  while  I  write  you 
are  at  his  school  with  our  boy.f  He  must  feel  the  heat  very 
much  in  that  treeless  jjlay ground,  where  I  picture  you  to 
myself,  embracing  each  other.  How  I  wish  the  little  fellow 
were  with  you !  ...  I  am  quite  sure  that  you  see  nobody, 
and  that  on  my  return  all  our  friends  will  be  asking  me  for 
news  of  you ;  consequently  I  do  not  ask  you  to  tell  me  any- 
thing about  them,  but  I  wait  for  letters  from  Alix  to  give 
me  all  the  gossip.  Mme.  de  Yannoise  will  be  your  only 
visitor,  and  the  only  person  about  whom  you  will  write  to 
me ;  the  unhappy  are  sure  to  find  you  out,  but  you  carefully 
avoid  every  one  who  could  merely  give  you  j)leasure  or  pay 
you  court. 

In  my  solitude  I  meditate  on  education,  and  I  study 
books  on  the  subject.    I  have  been  reading  "  Adele  et  Theo- 

*  The  Emperor,  who  had  returned  from  Italy  in  January,  had  started  ag  in 
for  Bayonne,  whence  he  returned  by  way  of  Toulouse  on  August  15th. 

f  Notwithstanding  what  was  said  further  back  on  the  advantages  of  home 
education,  my  father  had  been  sent  to  school  in  September,  1807.  The  Lyc6e 
Napoleon  had  bce:i  selected,  simply  because  Mme.  Pastoret's  two  eldest  sons 
were  there — Amedie,  who  was  older  than  my  father,  and  already  a  rhetorician ; 
and  Maurice,  vei'y  much  his  junior.  Amedie  Pastorct  died  about  the  year  1860. 
He  was  a  senator  under  the  Second  Empire. 


CONJUGAL   CONFIDENCE.  223 

dore,"  a  book  that  I  had  not  opened  since  my  childhood, 
and  I  find  there  are  really  excellent  things  in  it.  I  remarked 
one  paragraph  which  I  must  transcribe  for  you,  and  you  "vvill 
tell  me  whether  you  think  it  applies  to  any  one :  "  A  child 
who  only  likes  to  converse  with  those  whom  he  trusts,  who 
is  silent  in  the  presence  of  strangers,  who  chatters  only  with 
his  friends  and  playfellows,  and  who,  besides  this,  listens 
with  interest  to  others — such  a  child  will  certainly  he  ex- 
tremely clever.^''  What  does  your  Excellency  say  to  this  ?  I 
think  you  will  first  laugh  at  me,  and  then  think  that  I  am 
right. 

Mnie.  de  Lameth  said  to  me  yesterday  :  "  You  have  left 
your  husband  among  all  those  actresses — does  it  not  make 
you  feel  uneasy  \ "  "  l^o,"  I  answered.  "  What !  not  a  bit 
jealous  ? "  "  InTo."  "  And  why  not  ? "  "  Ah  !  why  not  in- 
deed? I  can  not  say — but  the  fact  is,  I  am  not  in  the 
least  uneasy."     And  you,  can  you  tell  me  why  ?  .  .  . 


CXXXIX. 


TO    M.    DE    KEISIUSAT,    AT    PARIS. 


Aix-la-Chapelle,  Julxj  24i  ISOS. 
If  nothing  happens  to  prevent  it,  I  still  intend  to  leave 
Aix  on  the  20th  of  August — that  is  to  say,  in  less  than  a 
month  ;  but  I  hardly  dare  to  dwell  on  the  thought.  It  seems 
more  diflicult  for  me  to  get  away  from  this  place  than  from 
any  other ;  though  certainly  not  because  of  the  pleasure  I 
take  in  it.  In  spite  of  M.  de  Lameth's  kindness  and  attention 
life  here  is  w^earisome,  and  the  very  things  got  up  for  our 
amusement  are,  generally  speaking,  those  that  we  care  for 
the  least.  Concerts  given  by  poor  fellows  who  want  to 
profit  by  the  presence  of  visitors ;  music  of  the  dreariest 
kind ;    a   third-rate   play ;   drives   in   the   neighborhood   in 


224  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  ESMFSAT. 

wretclied,  jolting  carriages ;  picnics  with  people  I  do  not 
know  and  do  not  want  to  know,  etc.,  etc.,  and  then  those  eter- 
nal whist-parties  !  If  I  consulted  my  owm  feelings  I  should 
certainly  stay  at  home.  I  have  not  the  strength  for  long 
expeditions,  and  I  am  never  dull  with  Mme.  de  Grasse,  who 
takes  care  of  me  and  spoils  me,  and  who  sympathizes  with 
my  sorrows,  my  anxieties,  and  my  affections — in  short,  with 
all  that  bui'dens  my  mind,  or  fills  my  heart.  .  .  . 


CXL. 


TO   M.    DE   KEMUSAT,   AT    PAEIS. 


Aix-la-Chapelle,  July  30,  1808. 

This  evening  you  will  have  your  son  with  you ;  I  rejoice 
over  this  in  my  solitude,  and  quite  enjoy  these  two  days, 
Saturday  and  Sunday.  Next  time  you  will  keep  him  longer 
wdth  you.  .  .  .  Just  now  I  am  pretty  well.  The  poor  Pre- 
fect can  not  say  so  much  for  himself ;  his  health  is  in  a  sad 
state.  He  has  feverish  attacks  every  day,  and  suffers  much 
from  his  liver.  He  has  been  confined  to  his  room  since  the 
beginning  of  this  week.  We  go  every  evening  to  his  sick- 
room to  play  quinze.  People  may  say  what  they  please  of 
him  in  Paris,  but  he  is  an  agreeable  man,  and  a  good  man 
too.  I  can  say  nothing  of  the  past,  but  I  am  greatly  pleased 
with  wdiat  I  now  see  of  him.  I  believe  that  the  fancy  we 
have  taken  to  him  has  given  rise  to  some  satirical  comment  in 
the  Faubourg  St.  Honore.*     The  cousin  has  already  written 

*  The  following  note  by  my  father  throws  some  light  on  this  passage :  "  M. 
dc  Lameth  was  one  of  the  most  unpopular  men  in  our  circle  of  acquaintance, 
which  was  in  general  anti-revolutionary,  although  strongly  imbued  with  revolu- 
tionary ideas.  My  mother,  although  full  of  the  prejudices  natural  to  the  daugh- 
ter of  one  of  the  victims  of  1793,  had  tendencies  to  liberalism  and  impartiality, 
which  rendered  her  both  more  indulgent  and  more  just,  especially  where  she 
recognized  ability." 


DEAN  SWIFT.  225 

to  Mme.  de  Grasse,  and  I  believe  that  Alix  also  makes  fun 
of  us ;  but  we  have  made  up  our  minds  to  brave  everything, 
and,  right  or  wrong,  in  despite  of  the  critics,  to  like  every- 
one who  deserves  it  or  who  likes  us.  However,  as  this  will 
not  pass  unnoticed,  you  may  imagine  beforehand  the  dis- 
putes that  will  arise,  similar  to  those  of  last  spring  about 
another  favorite  of  mine.*  By  the  way,  do  you  not  write 
to  him  ?  Do  you  hear  nothing  of  him  ?  Does  he  not  intend 
to  stir  from  his  chateau  ?  The  rumors  that  arose  in  another 
place  have  reached  us  here,  but  I  do  not  believe  a  word  of 
them.  .  .  . 


CXLI. 

TO   M.    DE   EEMUSAT,    AT    TAEIS. 

Aix-la-Chapelle,  Ancfitsl  3,  1S08. 

...  I  HAVE  finished  reading  Yoltaire's  correspondence ; 
that  is  to  say,  I  gave  it  up  when  I  came  to  the  affairs  of 
Galas  and  Sirvens,  which  bored  me.  I  am  now  reading  "  Gul- 
liver "  on  Mme.  de  Yintimille's  recommendation,  and  after 
having  regarded  it  formerly  as  a  mere  story  to  amuse  chil- 
dren, I  am  now  astounded  that  any  one  dared  to  publish  so 
severe  a  censure  on  all  human  institutions,  and  especially  on 
the  government  of  the  country  in  which  it  appeared.  If 
Bertrand  has  not  looked  at  it  lately,  I  advise  him  to  read  it 
again  ;  it  is  really  an  amusing  book.  Abbe  Morellet  has 
good  reason  for  his  attachment  to  Swift ;  I  discover  that  he 
was  a  very  clever  man. 

I  was  amused  by  finding  in  Yoltaire's  correspondence  all 
the  dehiU  of  those  old  philosophers  whose  foolish  vanity  is 
now  so  obsolete.  Their  mad  impnidence  in  digging  the  ])it 
into  which  we  fell  along  with  them  makes  one  heartsick, 
now  that  wc  know  into  what  misfortunes  they  led  us.    Ah  ! 

*  M.  de  Talleyrand. 


226  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  BE  REMUSAT. 

how  they  deceived  themselves  with  their  pride  and  their  vain 
science !  In  a  letter  to  one  of  his  disciples  Voltaire  writes : 
"  Let  ns  educate  the  people,  and  we  shall  be  of  service  to 
every  country.  Thanks  to  us,  Cromwell  could  not  again  suc- 
ceed in  England  ;  Cardinal  de  Retz  could  not  make  us  endure 
barricades."  The  Revolution  has  proved  how  well  we  can 
defend  ourselves  from  barricades  ! 

I  have  a  lively  letter  from  Mme.  Devalues,  but  she  makes 
too  much  of  what  she  calls  my  foolishness  and  her  own  com- 
mon sense.  She  deserves  that  some  day  I  should  tell  her  the 
truth  concerning  herself ;  for,  after  all,  she  is  always  mis- 
taking indifference  for  wisdom,  and  moderation  is  easy  and 
of  little  merit  to  those  who  take  nothing  to  heart.  She  tells 
me  that  M.  de  Talleyrand  is  very  dull  at  Yalen§ay,  and  that 
he  has  not  ceased  to  regret  his  nephew.  If  this  be  so,  I  am 
the  more  sorry  not  to  be  near  him.  Perhaps  you  should 
have  proposed  going  to  see  him.  I  am  sure  a  visit  from  you 
would  have  done  him  good  and  given  him  pleasure ;  I  fancy 
it  is  a  long  while  since  he  has  seen  a  human  being.  If  he  is 
unhappy,  I  should  like  to  write  to  him  ;  but  I  fear  it  is  too 
late,  and  that  my  letter  would  only  arrive  at  the  moment  of 
the  Emperor's  return.  On  reflection,  I  will  not  write,  and 
when  I  come  back  I  shall  get  up  a  little  quarrel  with  him. 


CXLII. 


TO   M.    DE    EEMUSAT,    AT   PAEIS. 


Aix-la-Chapelle,  August  12,  1S08. 

.  .  .  We  are  beginning  to  prepare  for  the  Emperor's y^^(3. 
M.  de  Lameth,  whose  health  is  rather  better,  is  decorating  his 
house,  and  intends  to  give  us  a  ball.  You,  too,  will  be  hav- 
ing some  kind  of  fete,  for  everything  seems  to  foretell  the 
Emperor's  return  by  that  time.     I  lioi)e  that  you  will  then 


A  SPEGULATIOK  227 

see  M.  cle  Talleyrand,  and  that  you  will  speak  to  him  of  me. 
He  ranks  among  the  few  whom  I  shall  be  glad  to  meet 
again. 

I  have  received  a  long  and  pleasant  letter  from  M.  Ber- 
trand.  If  we  were  oftener  at  a  distance  from  each  other, 
we  should  carry  on  a  great  correspondence.  With  my  love 
for  writing,  and  the  numerous  ideas  which  the  most  trifling 
circumstance  furnish  to  his  fertile  imagination,  there  would 
be  no  end  to  our  letters.  He  seems  quite  enchanted  with  the 
Comedie  Frangaise.  He  will  go  nowhere  but  to  the  theatre, 
and  it  is  there  that  we  meet.  He  says  the  house  is  comfort- 
able, the  comedy  is  excellent,  the  actors  perfect,  the  plays  are 
charming ;  it  is  a  passion  with  him,  in  fact,  with  the  charm  of 
novelty.  If  we  are  left  in  peace  on  my  return,  I  should  like 
nothing  better  than  to  pass  my  evenings  there  with  him. 
But — yes,  I  should  like  still  better  my  beloved  country- 
house,  in  which  I  would  willingly  pass  the  autumn.  This 
morning  two  fresh  eggs  were  brought  to  me ;  Mme.  de 
Grasse  and  I  exclaimed  at  the  same  time,  "  Ah !  if  we  were 
in  our  country-house,  we  should  have  brought  in  the  eggs 
ourselves  from  our  own  poultry-yard  ! "  I  want  you  to  tell 
me  whether  you  would  advise  the  purchase  of  some  Spanish 
sheep.  Mme.  de  Grasse  insists  on  our  having  a  flock ;  do 
you  think  this  would  be  a  good  speculation  ? 


CXLIII. 

TO   M.    DE   KEMUSAT,  AT    ERFlJRTn.* 

Paris,  Sunday,  September  S5, 1808. 

...  I  HAVE  not  much  to  tell  you  since  your  departure ; 
the  hours  have  crept  slowly  along,  with  little  of  interest. 

*  Mme.  cle  Rcmusat  returned   to  Paris  at  the  latter  end  of  Aujjust,  and  a 
month  afterward,  ou  September  22d,  the  Emperor  started  for  Erfiirth,  accom- 


228  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  REMUSAT. 

The  theatres  do  well.  Trajan  has  made  more  than  seven 
thousand  francs  ;  Mile.  Leverd  has  played  twice.  Fleurj  is 
said  to  he  ill,  and  thinking  of  retiring  into  the  country.  I 
went  to  see  "  Scarmentado  "  ;  *  it  is  a  wretched  and  tiresome 
rhapsody.  I  do  not  think  the  Odeon  will  see  much  of  me ; 
one  can  be  ahnost  as  dull  at  home. 


CXLIY. 

TO   M.    DE   EEMUSAT,    AT    ERFlJRTn. 

Paris,  Tuesday,  September  27,  1S08. 

...  I  WENT  to  TivoH  the  day  before  yesterday,  and  was 
present  at  the  daily  dinner  to  the  trooj^s.  It  amused  me.f 
The  tables  are  well  supplied ;  the  soldiers  merry,  but  not 
noisy.  Women  and  children  walked  about  among  them,  and 
not  the  slightest  accident  occurred ;  shouts  of  "  Vive  VEm- 
jpereur''''  were  echoed  from  one  table  to  another,  and  the 
whole  thing  had  a  joyous  air.  Charles  much  enjoyed  the 
sight,  and  also  the  amusements  provided  for  the  soldiers 
after  the  dinner. 

I  also  went  yesterday  to  the  first  performance  of 
"  Ninon."  X     The  piece  had  a  well-deserved  success ;  there 

panied  by  his  First  Chamberlain,  whose  task  it  was  to  organize  in  that  town 
those  famous  performances  of  the  Comedie  Fran9aise  which,  it  has  been  said, 
drew  together  an  audience  of  kings  {un  parterre  de  rois).  Every  one  linows  the 
insolent  speech,  "  Ce  n'est  pas  un  partet^re,  mais  une  plate-bandeP  It  would 
seem  that  the  Emperor  imposed  on  every  one  his  own  indefatigable  activity,  for 
between  September  28th  and  October  13th — that  is,  in  the  course  of  one  fort- 
night— the  following  performances  were  given  at  Erf iirth  :  "  Cinna,"  "  Andro- 
maque,"  " Britannicus,"  "Zaire,"  "Mithridate,"  "  (Edipc,"  "Iphigenie,"  "Phc- 
dre,"  "  La  Mort  de  Cesar,"  "  Rodogune,"  "  Rhadamiste,"  "  Le  Cid,"  "  Manlius," 
and  "  Bajazet." 

*  A  comedy  by  Lemercier. 

f  Fetes  and  banquets  were  given  successively  to  the  regiments  passing 
through  Paris. 

\  "  Ninon  chcz  Mme.  de  Scvigne,"  an  opera  comique  by  Dupaty. 


MALMAISOK  229 

is  some  affectation  in  the  style,  but  it  is  pretty,  and  fairly 
well  acted. 

These  two  are  almost  the  only  occasions  on  which  I  have 
been  out.  I  am  going,  this  morning,  to  Malmaison,  where 
they  say  the  Empress  is  enjoying  herself.  She  is  well ;  I 
hope  it  is  the  same  case  with  you.  Tell  me  about  your 
health.  M.  Edmond  de  Pengord,  whom  you  will  see,  will 
tell  you  about  mine ;  he  was  kind  enough  to  send  to  my 
house,  and  I  saw  him  yesterday  at  his  sister's,  just  as  he  was 
starting,  Mme.  de  Yintimille,  M.  Pasquier,  Bertrand,  Abbe 
Morellet,  and  Picard  dined  with  me  on  Friday.  I  don't  sup- 
pose that  you  pass  your  afternoons  at  Erf  iirth  as  we  passed 
that  one ;  it  was  one  long  discussion.  "We  ended  by  the 
usual  argument  on  La  Rochefoucauld  and  La  Bruyere.  You 
know  how  this  always  excites  Mme.  de  Vintimille ;  the  Abbe 
shouted  as  if  he  were  but  twenty  years  old,  and  I  as  loud  as 
I  could ;  M.  Bertrand  repeated  at  intervals,  "  Allow  me ! 
Allow  me !  "  but  we  would  not  allow  him ;  Picard  laughed, 
and  could  certainly  have  made  a  scene  in  a  play  of  it  all. 
The  next  morning  Bertrand  came  to  give  me  the  opinion  to 
which  we  had  not  listened.  He  told  me,  with  respect  to  La 
Bruyere,  that  he  had  read  his  works  many  times  in  his 
youth,  without  daring  thoroughly  to  enjoy  the  pleasure  they 
gave  him.  "  It  seemed  to  me,"  he  said,  "  that  after  his  satire 
of  others,  I  should,  as  I  advanced  in  the  book,  find  satire  of 
myself  as  well ;  I  dared  not  think,  because  I  believed  that  I 
could  not  escape  him  ;  in  short,  he  seemed  to  me  the  Talley- 
rand of  writers."  .  .  . 


230  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  EEMUSAT. 


CXLV. 

TO   M.    DE   KEMUSAT,   AT    ERFUKTII. 

Paris,  September  2S,  1808. 

...  I  WAS  at  Malmaison  yesterday  ;  tlie  j^ark  is  wonder- 
fully improved.  The  Empress  is  in  better  health ;  she  thor- 
oughly enjoys  her  ownership  of  the  place,  walks  about  all 
day,  in  spite  of  the  rain,  and  seemed  to  me  to  be  happy  and. 
tranquil.  She  had  heard  from  the  Emperor ;  she  thinks  you 
must  have  arrived  yesterday,  the  Emperor  of  Kussia  to-day, 
and  perhaps  to-morrow  I  shall  see  you  all  in  the  trijpot  of  the 
Comedie.  If  your  mind  does  not  give  way  under  all  the 
obligations  imposed  on  you,  it  must  be  a  very  strong  one  ;  I 
always  imagine  you  surrounded  by  your  actors,  all  talking 
together.  The  theatres  here  are  going  on  pretty  well ;  I  am 
busying  myself  with  "  ]N"uma,"  like  the  fly  in  the  fable.  I 
have  seen  Gardel,  who  answers  for  the  ballets.  Paer  is  re- 
hearsing every  other  day,  and  tells  me  that  the  opera  might 
be  performed  by  the  25tli ;  Isabey  is  getting  on  rapidly  with 
his  work. 

I  have  received  two  letters  from  the  Bishop  of  Alais.  He 
is  very  much  obliged  to  the  Emperor  for  selecting  him  ;  and 
he  accepts,  although  fearing  he  will  be  unable  to  perform 
the  requisite  functions.  At  the  present  moment  he  has  such 
an  attack  of  gout  that  he  can  not  walk  even  on  crutches ;  but 
Eontanes  has  written  to  tell  him  that  nothing  beyond  corre- 
spondence will  be  required  of  him.  He  says  a  great  deal  in 
his  letters  to  me  about  this  "  Life  of  Bossuet " ;  he  says  four 
years  of  reading  will  be  necessary  before  he  can  put  pen  to 
paper ;  in  fact,  he  seems  afraid  of  his  immense  undertaking. 


* 


*  M.  de  Baussct,  the  former  Bishop  of  Alais,  had  just  completed  his  "  Life 
of  Fonelon."  He  had  been  appointed  Councilor  of  the  University,  established 
in  this  same  year,  1808.  His  "  Histoire  de  Bossuet  "  was  not  published  until 
1814,  and  he  died  in  1S2I,  having  received  the  cardinal's  hat  in  1817. 


PLEASANT  COMPANY.  231 


CXLYI. 

TO   M.    DE   KEMUSAT,    AT   ERFUETH. 

Paris,  October  7,  ISOS. 

I  PASSED  the  whole  of  yesterday  at  Malmaison ;  tliere 
were  but  few  persons  tliere.  The  Empress  has  got  over  her 
stiff  neck,  hut  she  is  depressed  by  the  return  of  her  head- 
aches. The  works  are  being  carried  on  in  every  direction, 
and  the  place  is  really  becoming  like  fairy-land.  When  from 
time  to  time  I  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  country,  through  a 
window  as  it  were,  all  my  rural  desires  are  revived,  and  I  re- 
turn to  this  great  city  with  melancholy  feelings.  I  am  ex- 
pecting Duval  to-day.  He  is  to  read  his  comedy  *  to  us. 
You  will  think  I  am  always  having  plays  read  to  me  :  and, 
in  truth,  this  is  the  third.  I  hope  after  this  to  be  quiet.  As 
I  have  made  it  known  that  I  shall  scarcely  ever  go  out  in 
the  evening,  my  drawing-room  is  more  crowded  than  it  was 
at  fii"st ;  the  few  idlers  who  are  neither  in  the  country,  nor 
with  the  army,  nor  yet  on  their  travels,  come  to  meet  each 
other  by  my  fireside.  There  was  excellent  company  here 
the  day  before  yesterday :  M.  Delambre,  M.  Cuvier,  Mile. 
de  Meulan,  M.  Bertrand,  and  Mme.  Devalues,  who  talked 
rather  loud,  but,  nevertheless,  made  herself  pleasant.  I  like 
M.  Delambre  very  much  ;  he  is  the  essence  of  kindness  and 
simplicity.  I  think  that  Cuvier  is  what  would  be  called  a 
cleverer  man ;  his  conversation  has  more  point  and  pungency, 
but  he  is  rather  sarcastic.  We  talked  a  great  deal  about  the 
"  Lycees."  They  are  dismayed  at  the  amount  of  work  that 
has  to  be  done,  and  at  all  the  obstacles  in  the  way,  and  say 
they  ought  to  educate  the  professors  before  intrusting  pujiils 
to  them. 

Xothing  but  departure  is  talked  of  here ;  the  officers  are 

*  Pniliiilily  tlio  "Chosulicr  (.i'luJuotric,"  a  comedy  iu  five  acts  ami  in  verse, 
pciforoicil  iu  ISU'J. 


232  LETTERS   OF  MADAME  BE  REMUS  AT. 

going  off,  and  leave-tal<ing  has  begun  again.  We  shall  find 
it  diffienlt  to  enliven  Paris  this  winter,  unless  the  rapidity 
■with  which  the  Emperor  always  outstrips  our  human  fore- 
sight causes  everything  to  be  over  before  the  bad  weather 
sets  in.  As  you  may  imagine,  there  is  much  said  here  con- 
cerning the  recent  capitulation ;  it  is  considered  a  fine  thing, 
and  honorable  to  our  arms.  Many  details  are  added,  of 
which  I  do  not  believe  one  word.  This  is  another  of  the 
annoyances  of  life  in  the  capital  just  now.  In  the  country 
one  sees  the  newspapers  only,  and  one  hears  the  bare  facts, 
while  here  one  must  be  constantly  on  one's  guard  against 
gossip  invented  either  in  an  idle  or  malicious  spirit. 

I  scarcely  count  on  letters  from  you,  and  I  see  plainly 
that  I  am  riglit.  Your  valet  writes  abaut  you  to  Laure ;  I 
know  you  are  well,  and  that  is  enough  for  me.  He  says 
you  are  continually  at  work,  overwhelmed  with  petitions, 
with  visitors,  with  letters,  and  with  lists,  and  that  he  can  not 
conceive  how  you  hold  out.  I  trust  that,  at  any  rate,  all  the 
trouble  you  take  will  be  rewarded  by  success,  and  that  the 
plays  will  succeed  and  your  own  services  be  appreciated.  I 
hear  that  the  theatre  at  Erfiirth  was  a  very  bad  one  and  in 
great  disorder.  Your  southern  vivacity  must  have  found 
full  scope  for  action ;  and  I,  just  now,  am  very  far  from 
the  vortex  in  which  you  are  plunged,  for  I  have  never 
been  more  quiet  or  more  lazy.  This  physical  repose  suits 
my  health,  and  would  be  of  still  further  benefit  did  it  reach 
to  my  poor  brain  ;  you  have  not  the  leisure  to  listen  to  all 
the  thoughts  that  pass  through  my  mind,  and  sometimes  dis- 
tress me  in  my  solitude.  Thoughts  of  all  kinds,  recollec- 
tions, sometimes  of  a  painful  nature,  anxieties,  hopes — I 
know  not  what,  in  fact ;  but  all  that  can  occupy  the  vivid 
imagination  of  an  unoccupied  and  dreamy  woman. 

I  have  finished  Tacitus,  for  I  am  not  always  dreaming. 
While  looking  for  a  book,  I  came  upon  "  Emile,"  and  I 
am  now  reading  it.  But,  mon  ami,  I  must  be  getting  old, 
for  I  no  longer  care  so  much  for  Eousseau.     His  paradoxes 


ERFURTH.  233 

strike  and  displease  mc  mncli  more  than  formerly,  and  some- 
times I  find  myself  saying  aloud,  "  But  this  is  untrue  !  he 
speaks  falsely  here  !  "  And  then  I  am  inclined  afterward  to 
regret  having  become  more  critical,  for  in  outliving  an  illu- 
sion one  must  always  give  up  a  pleasure.  Fortunately,  your 
affection  and  the  happiness  it  procures  for  me  are  most  sweet 
truths ;  they  will  always  accompany  me  on  my  life's  jour- 
ney, and  will  be  a  constant  consolation  in  the  sorrowful 
experiences  that  await  me  in  life. 


CXLYII. 


TO   M.    DE    EEMUSAT,    AT    ERFURTH. 

Paris,  Odober  IS,  ISOS. 

Yesterday  was  a  dreadful  day  to  me.  I  was  obliged, 
at  last,  to  take  that  jDOor  child  back  to  school.  After  spend- 
ing part  of  the  night  in  soothing  him,  for  he  was  too  agitated 
to  sleej),  I  exerted  myself  all  the  morning  to  keej^  up  his 
courage  by  my  own  good  spirits.  At  last,  at  noon,  we  set 
out,  Albert  crying  loudly,  for  he  quite  well  understood  that 
his  brother  was  leaving  home.  My  poor  Charles  endeavored 
to  restrain  his  tears  ;  as  for  me,  I  was  choking.  Our  drive, 
as  you  may  imagine,  was  not  a  lively  one.  We  reached 
the  gloomy  place.  I  stayed  there  some  little  while,  and 
when  I  found  my  courage  was  leaving  me  I  made  my 
escape.  .  .  . 

While  I  am  passing  my  days  here  in  making  myself 
alternately  miserable  and  happy  by  my  own  thoughts,  you 
are  spending  yours  in  a  very  different  way.  I  ardently  wish 
tliat  your  stay  at  Erfiirth  would  come  to  an  end  before  you 
are  tired  out.  You  are  present  at  a  grand  spectacle  ;  all  that 
crowd  of  kings  set  in  movement  by  one  man,  by  the  impulse 
of  one  single  will,  is  a  fine  subject  for  profound  reflection 
and  observant  curiosity.     I  like  the  Emperor  Alexander  for 


234  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  REMUSAT. 

liis  admiration  of  our  Empeuor,  and  I  lioi3e  for  results  from 
that  great  friendship ;  but  I  must  confess  that  mj  alarm  will 
be  revived  if,  on  the  Emperor's  return,  he  again  leaves  us 
for  Spain.  I  can  not  bear  to  contemplate  the  risks  he  will 
run.  Those  incidental  to  war  are,  perliaps,  the  smallest.  I 
wish  it  were  possible  to  close  the  road  against  him.  I  am 
convinced  that,  whatever  may  be  the  opinion  of  a  small 
minority,  all  France  ought  to  place  itself  between  him  and 
Spain.*  If  he  does  not  stay  in  Paris  this  winter,  we  may 
prepare  ourselves  for  a  very  dull  one.  Talking  of  winter, 
when  you  return  we  must  think  seriously  of  entertaining 
more  company  and  carrying  out  our  master's  wishes.  Our 
sorrows,  my  want  of  spirits,  my  bad  health,  and  my  recent 
absence,  have  prevented  our  conforming  to  the  orders  we  had 
received,  but  the  time  has  now  come  to  set  about  it.  What 
say  you  ?  Otherwise,  we  shall  have  to  reduce  our  style  of 
living  within  the  narrowest  limits,  for  all  our  expenses,  or, 
at  least,  the  cost  of  everything,  will  be  greatly  increased  this 
winter.  It  is  extraordinary  how  all  the  necessaries  of  life 
become  dearer  day  by  day.  At  the  present  time,  an  income 
of  a  hundred  thousand  francs  a  year  would  not  go  so  far  as 
half  that  sum  in  former  times.  It  is  true  that  luxury  has 
greatly  increased.  We  no  longer  live  in  times  when  a  good 
story  at  dinner  w'ould  make  up  for  a  course  the  less ;  at  the 
dinners  of  the  present  day  all  the  wit  lies  in  the  entrees  and 
the  Madeira.  Conversation  that  must  take  place  by  the  light 
of  thirty  wax  candles,  in  a  sumptuously-furnished  drawing- 
room,  is  an  expensive  amusement,  and  even  at  that  price  wit 
is  not  to  be  had  for  the  asking. 

I  remember  to  have  seen  my  mother  receive  her  friends 
in  a  small  room,  lighted  by  one  solitary  lamp.  At  nine 
o'clock  boiling  w^ater  was  brought  in ;  she  would  make  the 
tea,  which  her  guests  drank  as  they  chatted,  and  after  this 

*  If  the  reader  wishes  to  appreciate  the  truth  of  this  almost  prophetic  pas- 
sage, he  will  do  well  to  read  the  "  Memoirs  of  Count  Miot  de  Mehto." — Trans- 
lators. 


M.   rASQUIER.  235 

fasliion  wliiled  away  the  time  until  the  night  was  far  ad- 
vanced. It  would  be  very  difhcult  to  attract  ^^eople  to  one's 
house  by  such  means  nowadays;  but,  then,  it  is  also  very 
difficult  to  be  so  agreeable  as  my  mother  was. 


CXLYIII. 


TO   M.    DE   REMUSAT,    AT    FONTAINEBLEAU.* 

Paris,  Friday  Evening,  Novembci-,  1S09. 

M.  Pasquier  is  going  to  Fontainebleau  to-morrow,  mon 
ami,  and  offers  me  his  services.  I  had  intended  to  send  your 
nephew ;  but  M.  Laborie's  answer,  which  I  add  to  my  packet, 
and  which  you  will  show  to  M.  de  Talleyrand,  renders  this 
unnecessary.  I  inclose  a  letter  from  the  Princess  of  Bcne- 
vento  I  had  sent  to  her  house,  and  another  from  the  Duchess 

*  A  whole  year  has  elapsed  between  the  last  letter  and  this  one.  At  the 
date  of  the  opening  of  the  present  correspondence  the  Emperor  was  in  Germany. 
He  had  left  Paris  on  April  24,  1809,  and  had  fought  the  battle  of  Essling  on 
May  21st  and  22d,  and  the  battle  of  Wagrara  on  July  Gth.  lie  had  not  returned 
to  Fontainebleau  until  October  IGth.  Despite  his  victories,  the  situation  of  the 
Empire  had  become  much  more  grave,  and  this  was  felt  even  at  Court.  In  little 
notes  written  by  my  grandfather,  and  too  short  for  publication,  I  constantly 
met  with  the  following  totally  ne*  phrase  :  "  The  outlook  grows  terribly  dark." 
My  grandparents  discerned  the  decline  all  the  more  clearly,  because  their  in- 
creasing intimacy  with  M.  de  Talleyrand  opened  their  eyes  to  the  truth.  Their 
relations  with  Talleyrand  placed  them  in  a  political  position  which  at  that  period 
was  rather  disadvantageous  to  them  than  otherwise.  In  his  capacity  of  super- 
intendent of  theatres,  my  grandfather  had  been  obliged  to  exercise  a  sort  of 
patronage  toward  men  of  letters  in  Parisian  society.  Although  he  derived  this 
appointment  from  the  Emperor  himself,  he  was  gradually  becoming  distrusted 
by  the  latter,  whose  suspiciousness  and  defects  of  character  had  increased. 
Hence  they  stood  in  a  special  and  not  easily  explained  position ;  and  while  M. 
de  Rcmusat  was  considered  by  many  persons,  and  considered  himself,  to  have 
fallen  into  a  kind  of  disgrace,  he  was  at  the  same  time  regarded  as  a  probable 
Minister  of  the  Interior,  which  post  had  been  for  some  time  vacant,  .and  to 
which  M.  de  Moutalivet  was  appointed  on  October  2d.  The  approaching  divorce 
added  to  these  complications. 


236  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  EEMUSAT. 

of  Coiirlancl,*  to  whom  I  had  also  sent.  I  hope  M.  de  Talley- 
rand will  be  pleased  with  me.  Now  for  our  own  affairs.  I 
have  written  to  the  Empress ;  I  think  ray  letter  pretty  good, 
although  rather  long.  When  you  give  it  to  her,  please  make 
my  apologies  for  its  length,  and  then  let  her  have  it,  what- 
ever the  state  of  her  domestic  affairs ;  imless  a  violent  quarrel 
is  going  on,  she  will  contrive  to  make  use  of  it. 

I  have  seen  Corvisart ;  he  will  not  do  anything.     "  It  is 
rheumatism,"  he  says ;  "  you  must  be  nursed  and  kept  warm ; 
nothing  more."     I  am  not  feverish,  only  a  little  weak ;  but 
as  I  have  no  occasion  for  strength,  I  like  my  state  very  well, 
and  thoroughly  enjoy  my  room,  my  bed,  and  my  quietude. 
Yesterday,  to  pass  away  the  time,  I  sent  for  Charles.     After 
the  classes  were  over  they  allowed  him  to  come.     He  was  as 
fresh  and  rosy  as  possible ;  we  kissed  again  and  again,  and 
had  a  long  talk  together.     His  masters  are  satisfied  with 
him;  his  class  is  very  advanced.     Auvrayf   says  that  the 
seventh  and  eighth  are  very  good  places.     He  would  have 
been  much  higher  up,  only  that  he  thought  the  verb  after 
the  word  lajplupart  should  always  be  in  the  singular,  and  in 
speaking  of  several  persons  he  wrote  "  La  jDlupart  avait  .  .  . 
etc."     Muzine  continues  to  bully  him  a  little ;  he  works  him 
hard  at  Greek ;  he  is  translating  passages  from  Isocrates,  and 
is  very  proud  of  it.    All  this  he  told  me  while  romping  with 
his  brother  on  my  bed.    Next,  he  dressed  himself  in  his  new 
coat  to  show  it  to  me ;  that  coat,  you  know,  that  I  did  not 
want  him  to  wear  lest  he  should  not  look  well  in  it.     Mon 
ami,  how  silly  I  was !     As  if  anything  could  fail  to  look 
well  on  Charles  !     He  is  charming  in  the  coat ;  I  was  in  de- 
spair at  lia^ang  no  one  to  whom  I  could  say  so,  and  I  resolved 
I  would  write  it  to  you.     At  eight  o'clock  my  little  visitors 
left  me,  and  Bertrand  arrived.     He  is  very  sallow  and  very 
melancholy.     "We  talked  over  our  illnesses — he  of  jaundice, 

*  The  Duchess  of  Courland  was  a  friend  of  M.  de  Talleyrand, 
f  M.  Auvray  was  one  of  the  Professors  at  the  Lycee  Napoleon.     He  was 
subsequently  Inspector  of  the  tTniversity. 


TEE  POPE.  237 

and  I  of  rheumatism.  lie  thought  me  very  good  company. 
I  have  seen  Countess  Rumford  and  my  cousin,  and  that  is 
all.  It  is  said  that  the  King  of  Saxony  ^  will  not  amve  be- 
fore Monday.  M.  de  Talleyrand  will  be  very  gay  at  Meaux. 
He  is  designated  (not  the  King  of  Saxony)  as  President  of 
the  Corps  Legislatif ;  others  name  the  Archchancellor.  Peo- 
ple announce  the  an-ival  of  the  Pope  at  St.  Denis;  they 
change  the  places  of  aU  the  kings ;  they  know  something  of 
the  gallantries  at  Fontainebleau ;  they  narrate  these  adven- 
tures, and  ask  me  questions.  To  all  of  them  I  make  my 
favorite  answer,  "  I  don't  know." 

I  have  seen  Picard ;  he  has  written  to  you  concerning 
the  state  of  tilings  at  the  Opera.  Everything  is  going 
amiss ;  however,  you  will  have  "  Cortez  "  f  and  "  Orphee." 
By-theby,  it  has  occurred  to  me,  in  my  wisdom,  that  you 
ought  not  to  have  "  Athalie  "  acted  at  Court ;  there  are  pas- 
sages which  might  be  applied  to  the  religious  question,  such 
as  ^''Tom-pez  tout  jjade  avec  Vim2>iete,^^  and  that  would  spoil 
all  after  your  exertions.:}:  People  would  resent  it  to  you 
that  their  feelings  were  wounded  without  their  havinc:  the 
right  to  complain,  and  this  in  presence  of  a  religious  king! 
I  submit  this  little  piece  of  advice  to  you ;  I  carry  caution 
very  far,  as  you  know. 

Mon  ami,  the  delight  that  I  felt  in  putting  on  my  dress- 
ing-gown again,  and  sitting  down  by  my  fire  with  nothing 
to  do  but  to  rest  myself,  convinces  me  more  than  ever  that 
I  am  quite  old,  and  that  if  I  were  sensible  enough  to  adopt 
the  ways  of  my  real  age,  *  I  should  •  do  well.  "  But  your 
head,"  I  hear  you  say,  "  and  your  heart?"  Ah  !  I  certainly 
still  like  them  to  retain  their  activity;  but  a  good  deal  may 

*  M.  dc  Talleyrand  had  been  dispatched  to  Meaux,  to  meet  the  King  of 
Saxony,  who  arrived  in  Paris  on  Xovembcr  13th. 

f  "Fernand  Cortez,"  an  opera  by  Spontiui,  and  a  revival  of  Gluck's  "Or- 
pheus." 

\  From  the  previous  June,  the  rupture  between  the  Emperor  and  the  Pope 
had  been  complote. 

*  She  was  then  ninc-and-twcnty. 


238  LETTERS   OF  MADAME  BE  REMUS  AT. 

be  doue  in  tliat  way  from  one's  easy-chair,  and  tliougli  I 
have  not  stirred  from  my  chimney-corner,  I  assure  you  I 
have  not  been  asleep  there.  I  have  amused  myself  with 
going  over  my  past  life,  and  I  found  you  everywhere.  This 
put  me  in  a  good  humor,  so  I  ventured  a  glance  into  the 
future ;  you  were  present  in  all  my  ]3rojects  as  in  all  my 
recollections,  and  yet  my  reveries  were  very  sweet !  Great 
repose  of  body,  and  some  agitation,  or  rather  some  emotion 
for  the  heart— this  is  what  I  require.  But,  ah  me !  I  am 
involved  in  a  vortex,  and  I  can  neither  arrest  nor  endure  the 
movement  that  bears  me  along. 

Adieu,  my  dearest ;  I  wish  you  a  good-night,  and  am 
now  going  to  bed,  for  it  is  ten  o'clock  already.  You  are 
very  good  to  have  written  to  me  this  morning ;  I  did  not 
expect  it,  you  are  so  busy !  M.  Pasquier  will  bring  me  news 
of  you  on  Monday,  and  also  news  of  our  friend.*  He  must 
allow  me  to  call  him  by  that  name,  which  by  no  means  dimin- 
ishes the  respect  due  to  him.  Talk  to  him  about  me.  If 
he  were  here  I  would  tell  him  all  that  I  have  been  thinking 
of  in  my  solitude ;  for  he,  too,  entered  into  my  solitary  rev- 
eries. He  had  the  arranging  of  everything,  and  it  was  all 
Avell  done.  I  continue  to  be  amused  with  his  Gourville, 
though  it  is  rather  confused ;  I  am  going  to  read  Cardinal 
de  Eetz  over  again,  so  as  to  find  inyself  once  more  in  the 
good  old  times  I  have  too  much  neglected.  I  am  now  ready 
for  "  Memoirs "  again.  Adieu  ;  I  am  talking  a  great  deal, 
and  you  will  have  something  else  to  attend  to  on  Sunday 
besides  my  chatter. 

*  M.  de  Talleyrand. 


THE  APPROACniNG  DIVORCE.  239 


CXLIX. 

TO    M,    DE   RKMUSAT,    AT   TRIANON. 

Paris,  Sunday  Evenitu/,  December,  ISOO. 

Bonsoir,  mon  ami ;  my  day  is  over,  and  before  going 
to  bed  I  must  say  a  few  words  to  you.  I  regretted  you 
to-day ;  we  passed  a  pleasant  time,  your  boy  and  I,  and  I  am 
very  much  pleased  with  him.  I  must  tell  you  that  yester- 
day Mme.  Pastoret  told  me  the  censor,  Dumas,  had  said  to 
her  that  Charles  was  one  of  the  most  promising  boys  of  this 
year  at  the  college.  This  put  me  in  good  spirits.  The 
dear  little  fellow  then  came  in,  and  behaved  very  nicely.  I 
saw  M.  de  Talleyrand  for  an  instant  this  evening ;  he  seemed 
vexed  at  not  being  at  Trianon.  "  Formerly,"  he  said,  "  when 
the  Emperor  was  in  trouble,  he  used  to  send  for  me."  I 
felt  the  bitterness  of  such  a  reflection,  and  tried  to  divert 
him  from  it  by  speaking  on  other  subjects,  but  lie  was  really 
grieved.* 

I  greatly  fear  that  you  are  having  the  same  bad  weather 
as  ourselves  ;  it  is  raining  in  torrents,  and  the  country  must 
be  very  dull.  I  am  going  to-morrow  to  IMalmaison,  I  shed 
tears  this  morning  over  the  "  Moniteur  "  ;  all  the  speeches  are 
fine,  and  make  a  good  impression.  Every  one  I  saw  yester- 
day and  to-day  had  been  moved  by  them.  People  repeat  to 
each  other  that  the  Emperor  wept !  Such  tears  are  pleasing 
to  us  women  ;  the  tears  of  men,  and  esj^ecially  of  kings,  caii 
scarcely  fail  to  produce  an  effect,  and  you  men  are  well 
aware  of  that. 

*  The  divorce  was  approaching,  and  the  Emperor,  after  a  violent  scene  with 
the  Empress,  had  gone  to  Trianon.  Tliat  scene  had  been  described  in  the 
"  Moniteur."  IJoth  of  them,  in  the  presence  of  the  Imperial  family,  had  de- 
clared that  they  renovmced  their  marriage.  This  occurrence  at  Fontaineblcau 
had  prepared  the  way  for  the  event,  but  the  situation  was  not  made  public  until 
the  scnatm-conxullum  of  December  1 6th,  and  the  departure  of  the  Emperor  for 
Trianon,  where  he  remained  until  December  25th. 


240  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  RMUSAT. 


CL. 

TO    M.    DE    KEMUSAT,    AT    TEIANON.* 

Malmaison,  December,  1809. 

I  HAD  lioped  for  a  moment  that  you  would'  have  accom- 
panied the  Emperor  yesterday,  and  that  I  should  have  seen 
you.  Independently  of  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you,  I  wanted 
to  talk  to  you.  I  hope  there  will  be  some  opportunity  for 
Trianon  to-day,  and  I  will  keep  my  letter  ready, 

I  was  received  here  with  real  affection.  All  is  very  sad, 
as  you  may  suppose.  The  Empress,  who  has  no  more  need 
of  effort,  is  greatly  cast  down  ;  she  weeps  incessantly,  and  it 
is  really  painful  to  see  her.  Her  children  are  full  of  courage. 
The  Yiceroy  is  come — he  keeps  her  up  as  much  as  possible  ; 
they  are  both  of  the  greatest  use  to  her.  Yesterday  I  had  a 
conversation  with  the  Queen  of  Holland.  I  will  repeat  it  to 
you  as  succinctly  as  possible.  "  The  Empress,"  said  she,  "  has 
been  deeply  touched  by  the  readiness  which  you  have  shown 
to  share  her  fate.  I  am  not  surprised  at  it,  but,  out  of  friend- 
ship to  you,  I  beg  of  you  to  reflect.  Your  husband  is  placed 
near  the  Emperor ;  all  your  instincts  ought  to  be  on  that  side. 
Will  not  your  position  be  frequently  false  and  embarrassing? 
Can  you  bring  yourself  to  renounce  the  advantages  attached 
to  the  service  of  a  young  and  reigning  Empress  ?  Think  of 
it  well ;  I  give  you  a  friend's  advice,  and  you  ought  to  re- 
flect." I  thanked  the  Queen  sincerely,  but  replied  that  I 
could  not  see  any  objection  to  my  taking  this  step,  which 
appeared  the  only  proper  one  for  me ;  that  if  the  Empress 
foresaw  any  difficulty  in  retaining  in  her  service  the  wife  of 
a  man  who  was  in  the  Emperor's,  then  I  would  retire,  but 
that,  unless  such  was  the  case,  I  would  greatly  prefer  to  re- 
main -wdth  her ;  that  I  knew  there  would  be  certain  advan- 

*  This  Isttei-  has  already  appeared  in  the  Memoirs,  but  it  is  so  important  in 
its  place  in  the  correspondence  that  it  is  thought  well  to  retain  it  here. 


QUEEN  EORTENSE.  241 

tages  for  persons  attached  to  the  great  Court,  but  that  their 
loss  was  more  than  compensated  to  me  by  the  consciousness 
of  fulfilling  a  duty,  and  of  being  useful  to  the  Empress,  if  she 
valued  my  services  ;  that  I  did  not  think  the  Emperor  could 
be  displeased  with  my  conduct,  etc.  "There  is  only  one 
consideration,  madame,"  said  I  in  addition,  "  which  could  in- 
duce me  for  one  moment  to  regret  the  part  I  have  taken. 
I  will  tell  you  very  frankly  what  that  is.  It  is  impossible 
that  there  should  not  be,  in  the  interior  of  this  little  Court 
here,  some  indiscretion,  some  gossip,  something  or  other 
which,  being  repeated  to  the  Emperor,  may  bring  about  a 
momentary  annoyance.  The  Empress,  good  as  she  is,  is 
sometimes  distrustful.  I  do  not  know  whether  the  proof  of 
devotion  which  I  am  now  giving  her  will  shelter  me  com- 
pletely from  a  passing  suspicion  which  would  greatly  grieve 
me.  I  acknowledge  that  if  it  should  happen,  even  once, 
that  my  husband  or  myself  were  suspected  of  meditating  an 
indiscretion,  on  one  side  or  the  other,  I  would  immediately 
quit  the  Empress."  The  Queen  replied  that  I  was  quite 
right,  and  that  she  hoped  her  mother  would  be  prudent. 
She  then  embraced  me,  and  said  that  she  knew  that  the  Em- 
press wished  in  her  heart  to  have  me  with  her.  I  needed 
nothing  more,  in  the  mind  in  which,  as  you  know,  I  am,  to  de- 
cide me. 

Kow  let  me  know  what  you  think.  I  know  that  my 
position  will  often  be  embarrassing,  but  with  prudence  and 
true  attachment  may  not  everything  come  right  ?  Mme. 
de  la  Rochefoucauld  seems  to  me  to  want  to  get  away — she 
has  even,  I  think,  said  something  to  the  Emperor ;  but  her 
position  is  different.  She  will  render  the  same  services  to 
the  Empress,  but  without  annuity  or  pension.  In  her  cir- 
cumstances, that  may  suit  her,  but  I  must  act  otherwise; 
and,  indeed,  the  more  I  question  myself,  the  more  I  feel 
that  my  place  is  here.  Put  all  this  together,  reflect,  and 
then  decide ;  and  remember  that  I  have  time.  We  are 
given  until  the  1st  of  January. 
11 


242  LETTERS   OF  MADAME  BE  REMUSAT. 

One  would  need  to  be  very  liappj  to  find  tliis  place 
pleasant  at  tliis  season ;  but  there  is  an  abominable  wind, 
and  it  is  always  raining.  The  weather  has  not,  however, 
prevented  a  succession  of  visitors  all  day  long.  Each  vis- 
itor makes  her  tears  flow.  Nevertheless,  it  is  no  harm  that 
all  her  impressions  should  thus  be  renewed  in  succession ; 
afterward  she  will  rest.  I  think  that  I  shall  remain  here 
until  Saturday.  I  wish  you  could  come  then,  because  we 
really  ought  to  meet  and  be  a  little  while  together.  It  is 
not  necessary,  in  order  to  appreciate  your  presence,  that  I 
should  be  deprived  of  it;  and,  in  good  truth,  the  more  I 
see  of  agitation  and  troubles  of  all  kinds  around  me,  the 
more  I  feel  how  dear  you  are,  and  that  I  love  the  repose 
and  the  happiness  that  come  to  me  from  you. 

Friday. 

I  could  not  find  an  opportunity  of  sending  my  letter  this 
morning,  I  hope  there  may  be  one  this  evening.  The 
Empress  has  passed  a  wretched  morning.  She  receives 
visitors,  who  renew  her  grief,  and  then  every  time  anything 
reaches  her  from  the  Emperor,  she  gets  into  a  terrible  state. 
"We  must  find  means,  either  through  the  Grand  Marshal  or 
the  Prince  de  Neuchatel,  to  induce  the  Emperor  to  moder- 
ate the  expression  of  his  regret  and  afiiiction  when  he  writes 
to  her,  because,  when  he  dwells  in  this  way  upon  his  grief, 
she  falls  into  real  despair,  and  seems  to  lose  her  head  com- 
pletely. I  do  all  in  my  power  for  her  ;  it  gives  me  terrible 
pain  to  see  her.  She  is  gentle,  sad,  and  affectionate  ;  in  fact, 
it  is  heartrending.  By  affecting  her  so  deeply,  the  Emperor 
increases  her  sufferings.  In  the  midst  of  all  this,  she  never 
says  a  word  too  much,  she  never  utters  a  bitter  complaint ; 
she  is  really  like  an  angel.  I  induced  her  to  take  a  walk 
this  morning ;  I  wanted  to  try  to  fatigue  her  body  in  order 
to  rest  her  mind.  She  complied  mechanically.  I  talked  to 
her,  I  questioned  her,  I  did  all  I  could ;  she  seconded  my 
efforts,  understanding  my  intentions,  and  seemed  grateful  to 
me  in  the  midst  of  her  tears.     At  the  end  of  an  hour  I 


JOSfjPHINE'S  GRIEF.  243 

acknowledge  that  I  was  almost  fainting  with  the  effort  that 
I  had  made,  and  for  a  few  minutes  was  almost  as  weak  as 
herself.  "  It  seems  to  me  sometimes,"  said  she,  "  that  I  am 
dead,  and  that  there  remains  to  me  only  a  sort  of  vague 
consciousness  that  I  am  no  longer  living." 

Try,  if  you  can,  to  make  the  Emperor  understand  that  he 
ought  to  write  to  her  encouragingly,  and  not  in  the  evening, 
for  it  gives  her  frightful  and  terrible  nights.  She  does  not 
know  how  to  bear  up  against  his  sorrow ;  no  doubt  she  could 
still  less  bear  with  his  coldness ;  but  there  is  a  medium.  I 
saw  her  yesterday  in  such  a  state,  after  the  Emperor's  last 
letter,  that  I  was  on  the  point  of  writing  myself  to  Trianon. 

Adieu,  cher  ami.  I  do  not  say  much  of  my  own  health  ; 
you  know  how  feeble  it  is,  and  all  this  tries  it.  After  this 
week  I  shall  want  a  little  rest  with  you.  To  iind  anything 
pleasant,  I  must  be  at  home  with  my  dear  one. 


CLI. 

TO   M.    DE   KEMUSAT,  AT  TRIANON. 

Paris,  Monday  Morning,  December,  1S09. 

A  THOUSAND  thanks,  mon  ami,  for  your  letter.  I  was 
awakened  by  its  arrival  this  morning.  I  am  rejoiced  at  what 
you  tell  me ;  I  do  not  suppose  that  the  delay  of  a  few  days 
can  inconvenience  your  business  arrangements  very  much, 
and  I  presume  that  the  Grand  Marshal,  knowing  your  pres- 
ence to  be  necessary  here,  will  help  you,  later,  to  obtain  the 
leave  of  absence  that  you  will  require.  It  is  surely  impos- 
sible that  in  the  solitude  of  Trianon  you  can  fail  to  find  an 
opportunity  of  making  explanations  to  the  Emperor,  which 
will  restore  you  to  his  confidence,  and  you  should  neglect 
nothing  toward  a  justification  of  yourself,  which  is  necessary 
on  behalf  of  the  other  branches  of  the  administration  with 
which  you   arc  intrusted.     My  good   husband  must  needs 


2il  LETTERS   OF  MADAME  DE  REMUSAT. 

gain  by  being  heard ;  I  therefore  feel  great  hopes,  if  joii  can 
obtain  a  liearing. 

I  sliould  also  advise  you  to  have  some  conversation  with 
the  Grand  Marshal,  provided  that  you  think  it  well  to  do  so, 
concerning  your  attitude  toward  M.  de  Montesquiou.  Tell 
him  (and  it  will  be  the  truth)  that  you  can  not  entertain  the 
suspicions  of  his  want  of  good  faith  toward  you,  which  are 
generally  attributed  to  him  in  society,  but  that  you  have 
observed  that  the  narrow  mind  and  uneasy  temper  of  the 
Grand  Chamberlain  lead  him  to  take  precautions  that  do 
harm  in  every  way,  because  of  the  misunderstanding  they 
cause  between  you.  It  would  be  well  if  M.  de  Montesquiou 
had  a  mind  like  yours ;  all  would  go  smoothly  then,  and  you 
would  have  an  easier  life.  I  repeat  that,  if  the  Emperor 
will  hear  you,  your  days  wnll  once  again  be  peaceful ;  but  if 
the  time  of  favor  is  over  for  us,  be  quite  without  anxiety  on 
my  account ;  I  shall  adopt  another  kind  of  life  with  all  the 
resignation  you  can  wish  for.  I  have  attained  the  age  of 
reason ;  every  day  my  tastes  become  more  serious,  and  I  as- 
sure you,  with  all  the  sincerity  of  a  heart  that  is  yours  alone, 
that  in  any  life  that  would  be  peaceful  for  you  I  should  be 
perfectly  happy.  There  was  a  time  when  I  could  not  have 
believed  in  happiness  far  from  Paris ;  but  I  have  a  convic- 
tion that  my  days  will  be  serene  in  retirement,  should  we 
become  the  victims  of  the  mean  intrigues  that  may  be  formed 
against  us.  May  Heaven  forbid  this,  however !  Meanwhile, 
with  courage  and  prudence,  you  will  be  able  to  avoid  or  en- 
dm:"e  the  trials  which  are,  perhaps,  in  store  for  us.  .  .  . 


« BRITANNICUSy  215 

CLII. 

TO   M.    DE    REMUSAT,   AT    COMPIEGNE.* 

Paris,  Apnl,  1810. 

Thanks  for  your  letter  of  yesterday.  I  was  beginning  to 
grumble  at  your  silence.  From  the  bottom  of  my  lieart  I 
pity  you  for  the  life  you  are  leading  ;  but  I  am  not  surprised 
that  the  audience  slept,  or  pretended  to  sleep,  at  "  Britanni- 
cus."  It  was  a  brilliant  idea  of  yours,  certainly,  and  you  had 
a  good  answer  to  give  to  questions  on  the  subject :  "  The 
play  was  by  request !  "  f  Amuse  yourself  with  a  safe  con- 
science with  the  innocent  actors  of  the  Feydeau  Theatre,  and 
be  of  good  courage.  If  you  were  pious,  you  would  find 
plenty  of  exercise  for  patience  during  Holy  Week. 

I  heard  of  our  boy  yesterday  ;  he  is  quite  w'ell.  He  will 
come  on  Sunday,  to  prepare  for  his  first  Communion.  If 
the  time  be  fixed  for  Easter,  and  you  are  not  back  from 
Compiegne,  then  I  shall  ask  leave  to  spend  a  few  days  at 
Navarre,  if  my  health  permits,:}:  They  say  here  that  the 
Empress  is  never  coming  back ;  if  you  can  write  to  me  by 
some  safe  messenger,  whenever  there  is  anything  concerning 
her,  you  would  do  me  a  real  kindness. 

*  There  is  an  interval  of  four  months  between  this  letter  and  the  last.  The 
year  1810,  which  was  that  of  the  Emperor's  marriage  (on  April  2d),  was  com- 
paratively a  year  of  peace.  After  his  marriage,  the  Emperor  and  his  new  con- 
sort went  to  Compiegne,  where  they  passed  the  remainder  of  Lent. 

f  The  Emperor  himself  selected  the  play  he  wished  to  be  performed  at 
Court.  He  asked  for  "  Britannicus,"  and  no  one  recollected  in  time  that  it 
contained  certain  scenes  which,  after  the  recent  divorce,  might  be  taken  as  per- 
sonal allusions.     Talma  became  confused  in  uttering  the  following  lines : 

"  Non  quo  pour  Octavie  un  rcste  de  tendresso 
M'attichc  a  son  hymen  et  plaigne  sa  jeunesse  .  .  . 
D'aiu'un  paso,  Narcisse,  ils  n'honorent  ma  coucbe. 
L'eiupire  vaincmcnt  dcmando  un  licritier." 

The  audience  were  equally  embarrassed.     The  Emperor  pretended  to  be  asleep. 
\  The  Chateau  dc  Navarre  in  Normandy  had  been  bestowed  on  the  Empress 
Jo.'i^phine. 


248  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  R^MUSAT. 

Did  I  tell  you  that  Lemercier  *  was  elected  ?  Our  old 
members  of  the  Institute  are  furious.  I  amused  myself  yes- 
terday by  teazing  Suard  and  the  Abbe ;  for  my  own  part,  I 
am  glad  of  it  because  of  the  money.  I  have  read  his  ode, 
which  he  had  recited  to  me.  31a  foi,  all  things  considered, 
I  think  it  very  bad,  with  the  exception  of  a  few  fine  ideas, 
and  I  return  to  Esmenard,  or  rather  to  nothing,  for  it  is  all 
very  poor. 

M.  de  Fontanes  dined  here  yesterday ;  also  M.  and  Mme. 
de  Ganay,  Bertrand,  Lebreton,  and  Norvins.  The  Grand 
Master  was  quite  at  his  ease  and  in  very  good  humor ;  it  is 
true  that  we  all  vied  in  spoiling  him.  How  pompous  he  is 
about  everything!  I  made  myself  agreeable,  but  in  my 
secret  heart  his  vanity  was  displeasing  to  me.  He  is  posi- 
tively quite  in  love  with  Mme.  de  G ,  who,  on  her  side, 

has  not  the  least  objection ;  such  things  do  not  displease  us 
women,  do  they  ?  Are  we  not,  for  the  most  part,  curious 
creatures  ?  We  play  the  coquette,  we  foresee  what  is  com- 
ing, we  do  all  we  can  to  bring  it  about,  we  amuse  ourselves 
with  it,  and  then,  wdien  the  crisis  is  reached  and  a  declara- 
tion is  made,  we  are  angry,  w^e  stand  on  our  dignity,  and  are 
to  be  appeased  w'ith  difficulty.  Nevertheless,  monsieur,  you 
may  make  your  declaration  to  me  whenever  you  choose. 

I  inclose  you  a  letter  from  M.  de  Lezay-Marnesia.  Two 
big  boxes  were  brought  to  me  yesterday,  with  a  request  that 
I  M^ould  send  them  immediately  to  St.  Cloud.  I  did  not 
know  how  to  set  about  this,  so  I  opened  M.  de  Lezay's  letter 
and  perceived  that  there  was  breathing  time.  Tell  me  what 
you  would  like  done  with  the  boxes,  and  whether  you  will 
answer  M.  de  Lezay ;  or  shall  I  write  to  him  ?  f 

*  Lemercier  had  ju?t  been  elected  member  of  that  class  of  the  Institute 
which  represented  the  French  Academy.  He  had,  in  spite  of  his  Republicanism, 
written  an  ode  on  the  Emperor's  marriage,  in  order  to  render  his  election  pos- 
sible. Esmenard  was  an  author  of  some  distinction,  and  wrote  some  good 
verses. 

f  The  Prefect  M.  de  Lezay-Marnesia  had  ordered  a  fancy  costume  for  the 


LEBRETOK  247 

Bonjour,  cher  ami.  I  am  not  unwell ;  with  the  excep- 
tion of  my  head  and  neck,  I  am  much  better.  Nor  is  Jose- 
phin  unwell  cither.  I  believe  he  has  made  up  his  mind  to 
go  into  Provence  with  M.  do  Villeneuve,*  who  intends  to 
start  on  May  5th.  He  is  in  a  tolerably  amiable  frame  of 
mind,  and  the  house  is  very  quiet.  Lebreton  comes  to  see 
me  every  day  ;  he  is  a  kind  and  excellent  friend,  whose  heart 
is  a  hundred  times  better  than  his  head.  I  say  this  so  that 
you  may  not  say  I  am  misled  by  his  cleverness ;  he  is  sin- 
cerely attached  to  you  and  to  me.  Some  of  your  books  were 
shown  yesterday  ;  it  was  an  opportunity  for  speaking  of  you  ; 
I  was  greatly  pleased  at  the  way  in  which  our  friend  spoke 
of  you  to  Fontanes,  and  you  know  I  am  not  easily  satisfied. 


CLIII. 

TO   M.  DE   KEMUSAT,    AT    COMPIEGNE. 

Tuesday,  April,  1810. 

...  I  SAW  M.  de  Talleyrand  yesterday  on  his  return 
from  Compiegne.  He  had  been  traveling  for  two  nights, 
and  looked  as  fresh  as  if  he  had  just  got  out  of  bed.f  He 
gave  me  news  of  you,  and  hoped  to  have  brought  me  a  letter 
from  you,  but  I  see  you  have  hardly  time.  I  am  vexed  at 
the  length  of  your  absence.  Three  weeks  more  before  I 
shall  see  you !  This  is  a  long  and  wearisome  separation. 
You  can  not  picture  to  yourself  how  I  grieve  about  it.  It 
was  long  since  we  had  been  parted,  and  the  delightful  habit 
of  being  with  you  had  regained  its  old  influence  over  me. 
Each  day  I  feel  your  companionship   more   necessary.     I 

future  King  of  Rome,  who  was  not  born  until  a  year  afterward,  and  this  costume 
was  contained  in  the  two  boxes.     There  was  certainly  no  hurry. 

*  M.  dc  Vilk'iieuve-Barqcmon,  Reforcndaire  at  the  Cour  dea  Comptcs,  was 
made  a  Prefect  and  Director-General  under  the  Restoration. 

f  II.  dc  Talleyrand  was  then  in  his  lifty-seventh  year. 


248  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  JJE  REMUSAT. 

think  that  our  minds  are  more  than  ever  in  unison,  that  our 
opinions  arc  more  often  the  same,  and  that  we  now  know  all 
the  charm  of  union.  In  youth,  a  diversity  of  tastes  and 
opinions,  which  at  that  time  is  more  strongly  felt,  does  no 
harm  to  love,  and,  indeed,  contributes  to  it,  by  affording 
opportunities  of  self-sacrifice ;  but  when  years  have  crept 
upon  us,  quieter  and  safer  joys  become  preferable,  and  har- 
mony and  unity  are  then  our  best  happiness. 

You  will  admit,  this  time,  that  I  am  writing  for  the 
pleasure  of  writing,  and  truly  there  is  nothing  in  Paris  for 
me  to  tell  you,  nor  even  in  my  own  little  circle.  I  am  lazily 
lying  in  bed ;  the  weather  is  cold ;  I  have  not  the  least  in- 
clination to  go  out,  and  find  myself  very  comfortable,  with 
my  desk  on  my  knees,  writing  to  you  all  that  comes  into  my 
head,  or  rather  my  heart. 

Mme.  de  Vintimille  is  better ;  this  last  attack  is  almost 
over ;  but  the  future  must  always  be  alarming  for  her.  And 
for  whom  is  it  not  ?  I  am  often  inclined  to  smile  when  I 
hear  of  some  bodily  predisposition  that  is  a  cause  of  anxiety 
for  after-life ;  I  laugh  at  myself,  rather  sadly,  it  is  true,  for 
my  own  fears.  We  fear  that  such  an  ailment  may  cause  our 
death ;  we  take  all  kinds  of  precautions ;  we  seek  all  manner 
of  relief,  and,  poor  fools  that  we  are !  the  natural  course  of 
things  leads  us  more  surely  than  aught  else  to  the  death  that 
we  would  fain  escape !  Is  not  life  itself  a  first  cause  of 
death  ?  The  more  reasonable  plan,  perhaps,  would  be  to 
forecast  nothing  and  to  avoid  nothing. 


CLIY. 

TO    M.    DE    REMUSAT,    AT   COMPIEGNE. 

Paris,  Holy  Wednesday,  April  18,  1810. 

I  HAVE  something  to  tell  you  that  will  give  you  pleasure 
-Charles  is  first  in  his  class.     I  inclose  two  letters  that  I 


CHARLES.  249 

received  yesterday;  you  will  see  that 'he  signs  "Charles, 
First,"  and  that  M.  de  Wailly  *  is  pleased  with  him.  I  wrote 
to  Fontanes  to  ask  leave  to  take  him  out  this  week,  because  I 
wish  him  to  attend  some  of  the  Church  services,  and  to  see 
the  cure.  I  shall  therefore  have  the  dear  boy  with  me  to-mor- 
row ;  we  shall  pray  together,!  he  shall  go  out  for  walks,  he 

*  M.  de  Wailly  was  Proviscur  of  the  Lycee  Napoleon. 

f  My  grandmother  alludes  frequently  in  these  letters  to  her  tendency  toward 
a  piety,  somewhat  vague  indeed,  and  yet  more  decided  than  that  of  most  of  her 
contemporaries.  '  It  maybe  well,  perhaps,  to  mention  here  what  was  my  father's 
opinion  of  the  religious  beliefs  of  his  parents.  "My  mother,"  he  writes,  "had 
not  been  surrounded  in  childhood  by  persons  of  strong  religious  feeling.  She 
had  been  brought  up  in  the  general  creed  of  Christianity  reduced  to  simple  and 
easy  practice,  carefully  severed  from  those  accessories  that,  since  the  seven- 
teenth century,  there  had  been  a  constantly  increasing  endeavor  to  suppress, 
and  she  was  preserved  from  difficulties  by  a  general  recommendation  not  to 
trouble  herself  about  them.  Her  strongest  feeling  was,  therefore,  not  so  much 
a  fervent  faith  as  an  aversion  to  unbelief,  which  indeed  had  been  censured  by 
the  Revolution,  and  a  preference  for  religion,  for  it  appealed  both  to  her  heart 
and  her  imagination.  She  was  one  of  those  persons  to  whom  *  Le  Genie  du 
Christianisme  '  made  a  timely  appeal,  and  she  had  enjoyed  the  book.  But  she 
was  not  disposed  to  devotion,  properly  so  called,  and  during  her  youth  it  was  an 
unknown  element  in  the  world  in  which  she  lived.  Religion,  conceived  with 
moderation  and  practiced  with  common  sense,  in  no  wise  resembled  the  party 
doctrine  abounding  with  childish  superstitions,  historical  paradoxes,  and  polit- 
ical calculations,  which  at  the  present  time  is  called  by  that  name.  As  she 
advanced  in  age,  and  also  through  the  influence  of  my  father,  who  was  not  a 
believer,  but  who  had  been  brought  up  at  the  Oratoire  on  a  religious  system, 
my  mother,  whose  mind  was  more  and  more  attracted  to  the  writers  of  the 
seventeenth  century,  became  better  acquainted  with  the  dogmas  of  Christianity, 
and  she  also  experienced  impulses  toward  piety,  of  which  she  gives  an  accurate 
description  in  her  letters.  For  a  long  time  her  outward  observances  had  been 
limited  to  hearing  Mass  on  Sundays,  and  even  this  with  irregularity  on  account 
of  her  ill  health.  In  the  autumn  of  1811  she  over-exerted  herself  in  acting 
Elmire  in  '  Le  Tartuffc,'  at  Mme.  de  Labriche's  house  in  the  Marais  (her  daugh- 
ter, Mnie.  Mole,  was  passionately  fond  of  acting),  and  she  then  began  to  suffer 
from  an  affection  of  the  chest  that  had  not  beon  hitherto  included  among  her 
other  ailments.  In  October  she  had  an  attack  of  pneumonia,  which,  without 
being  very  severe,  ran  the  whole  course  of  the  disease.  Reflections  that  are 
the  natural  result  of  illness  to  Christian  minds  then  occurred  to  her,  and  after  a 
lapse  of  sixteen  years  .she  confessed  and  communicated  on  Easter  Tuesday,  1812. 
It  was  thus,  as  she  relates  it  in  a  few  pages,  that  she  returned  to  a  greater  rcgu- 


250  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  REMUSAT. 

shall  study,  Wc  vf\\\  try  to  spend  our  time  well,  and  we 
will  write  a  few  lines  to  Compiegne.  If  you  have  a  spare 
moment,  write  him  a  few  words  to  praise  hiin  for  being  first, 
and  then  say  something  to  me  too. 

It  is  weary  work  to  be  so  long  without  a  word  from  you  ; 
I  begin  to  lose  patience,  and  to  reflect  that  in  the  salon  for 
the  Gentlemen-in-Waiting  there  must  always  be  some  table 
or  other,  with  a  sheet  of  paper  and  an  inkstand,  on  which 
you  might  write  to  your  wife  that  you  are  quite  well,  and 
that  she  is  not  forgotten.  ... 

I  send  you  some  papers  about  the  Opera  that  I  found  by 
chance  on  the  table  in  the  ante-room.  As  for  me,  I  am  im- 
mersed in  the  most  serious  meditations.  I  read  yesterday 
an  admirable  sermon  on  death  by  Massillon.  It  alternately 
depressed  and  consoled  me ;  it  would  be  better  to  have  that 
read  to  you  at  Compiegne  than  Abbe  de  Ranzau's*  "  Passion," 
which  is  said  to  be  very  commonplace.  It  is  well  to  speak 
of  death  to  the  fortunate  ones  of  the  earth,  and  the  words 
"  dust,"  "  tomb,"  and  "  the  nothingness  of  life  "  ought  to  be 
heard  in  the  palace  of  kings. 

The  Minister  of  Police  said  yesterday,  on  his  return,  that 
Lemercier's  ode  had  been  liked  at  Compiegne.  Have  you 
heard  anything  about  it  ?     If  so,  pray  tell  me  ;  it  would  give 

larity  in  the  practice  of  her  religion.  But  strict  exactitude  therein,  and  severe 
orthodoxy,  were  alike  unsuited  to  her.  Her  clear  judgment,  her  serious  sin- 
cerity, her  dearest  affections,  forbade  her  from  considering  it  a  universally  rig- 
orous duty  to  believe  in  and  practice  certain  observances  which  do  not  result 
necessarily  from  nature,  but  occur  accidentally  from  the  history  of  humanity. 
Within  this  limit,  then,  she  was  a  Christian,  with  sincere  feelings,  and  after- 
ward with  the  independence  which  philosophic  liberalism  gives  to  religion.  By 
a  revei-se  action,  of  which  there  are  innumerable  examples,  the  Revolution  had 
helped  to  place  her  on  the  side  of  religion ;  the  Restoration  drove  her  from  the 
Church  party.  In  reality,  she  differed  less  than  she  imagined  from  the  state  of 
mind  of  the  '  Vicaire  Savoyard,'  if  we  add  to  it  a  liking  for  the  religious  writers 
of  the  seventeenth  century,  and  consequently  for  Jansenism,  and  a  marked  pref- 
erence for  positive  religion  over  pantheism." 

*  The  Abbe  de  Ranzau,  Chaplain  to  the  Emperor,  became  known  under  the 
Restoration  by  his  zeal  for  the  missions  that  were  preached  in  France. 


COURT  GOSSIP.  251 

such  pleasure  to  you  know  whom.  Constance  is  not  very 
well ;  this  spring-time  is  disastrous  to  delicate  constitutions. 
Take  care  of  your  health ;  it  is  my  comfort  and  my  most 
precious  possession.  Next  in  order  are  Charles's  rosy  cheeks  ; 
but  I  say  it  from  my  heart,  they  come  next.  I  have  not 
arrived  at  that  point  of  maternity  at  which  one  prefers  one's 
children  to  everything.  When  I  was  young,  people  used  to 
say  to  me,  "  It  will  come."  But  I  have  hardly  reached  it 
yet,  and  I  feel  that  it  does  7iot  come ;  whose  fault  is  that, 
think  you? 


CLV. 

TO   M.    DE   EEMUSAT,    AT   COMPIEGNE. 

TAnis,  April,  ISIO. 

I  MAY  expect  you,  then,  next  week,  and  I  shall  remain  in 
Paris.  I  am  very  undecided  about  Navarre,  not  on  account 
of  my  health,  for  I  am  beginning  to  accustom  myself  not  to 
take  it  much  into  account ;  but  it  just  happens  that  I  have 
no  dormeuse  here,  and  I  do  not  know  in  what  carriage  to 
travel.  I  wrote  yesterday  to  the  Empress,  asking  how  she 
is.  I  shall  be  guided  by  her  answer,  and  then  if  you  come 
here  we  can  talk  it  over. 

Did  I  not  send  you  a  nice  letter  from  Charles?  It 
arrived  last  night ;  and  I  gave  myself  the  treat  of  reading  it. 
In  the  mean  time,  M.  de  Talleyrand  came  in,  and  I  showed 
it  to  him  ;  he  was  greatly  amused,  for  it  is  really  ingenuous. 

Tlicrc  are  anecdotes  current  here  concerning  the  Court 
and  the  life  you  are  all  leading  at  Compiegne.  These  stories 
are  in  general  malevolent ;  they  turn  upon  the  haughty  man- 
ners of  the  Empress,  and  the  hardness  of  her  disposition,  and 
then  the  otiiev  one  is  remembered.  All  this  will  make  her 
position  difficult.  It  is  said  that  Josephine  is  to  be  Duchesse 
de  Navarre  only  ;  that  she  is  to  reside  in  the  duchy  of  Berg ; 


252  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  REMUSAT. 

tliat  Malmaison  is  to  be  bought  back  from  her ;  that  our  new 
sovereign  lady  has  expressed  a  great  objection  to  her  prox- 
imity ;  and,  in  support  of  this  assertion,  expressions  are 
quoted  wliich  are  clearly  inventions,  because  it  is  impossible 
that  any  one  could  have  had  an  opportunity  of  hearing  them, 
I  await  your  return  to  learn  the  truth. 


CLVI. 

TO   M.    DE   KEMUSAT,    AT   COMPIEGNE. 

Paris,  April^  ISIO. 

We  hear  that  the  Frangais  is  going  to  Compiegne ;  the 
journey  to  St.  Quentin  is,  therefore,  given  up,  and  also  the 
return  to  Paris.  I  am  very  much  disappointed,  for  I  w^as 
expecting  you  home  this  week,  and  I  see  I  must  give  up  all 
hope  of  that.  I  am  decidedly  tired  of  your  absence,  how- 
ever, and  of  all  your  side  of  the  house  being  shut  up.  .  .  . 

Just  at  this  moment  I  suppose  you  are  getting  up  ;  it  is 
seven  o'clock,  and  your  tiresome  day  is  beginning.  You 
will  see  our  friend  *  to-day.  He  is  very  kind  to  me  in  my 
loneliness,  and  comes  to  see  me  nearly  every  day.  He  found 
me,  on  Friday,  in  a  state  of  enchantment  over  a  sermon  of 
Massillon's  which  is  well  adapted  to  the  weakness  of  our 
poor  human  nature.  From  our  very  defects  he  augurs  our 
future  virtue.  The  more  vain  and  ambitious  we  may  have 
been,  the  more  nobly  and  devotedly  shall  we  serve  God ;  the 
more  we  have  loved  Nature,  so  much  the  more  shall  we  love 
God ;  a  tender  and  feeling  heart  is  one  step  toward  the 
Divinity.  I  told  M.  de  Talleyrand  that  I  was  very  glad  to 
find  my  friendship  for  him  was  one  of  the  steps  of  the  lad- 
der by  which  I  might  climb  to  the  love  of  God,  and  I  made 
him   read   several   passages   of  the   sermon,  which   it  was 

*  M.  de  Talleyrand. 


cnP:RuniNi.  253 

strange  to  hear  from  his  lips.  After  his  visit  Savary* 
arrived.  He  asked  many  questions  about  our  httle  Court  at 
Navarre,  and  also  about  the  future  of  our  son,  who  seemed 
to  him  ready  for  the  army.  While  I  was  receiving  my  vis- 
itors, every  one  was  at  Longchamps,  which  was  most  bril- 
liant, I  am  told;  but  I  had  not  given  it  a  thought.  I  am 
unwiUinor  to  move  whenever  the  weather  is  fine,  and  lono-in": 
to  be  out  when  it  rains.  This  is  being  admirably  adapted  to 
the  seasons ! 

The  hooby  always  insists  on  my  mentioning  him  ;  he 
went  yesterday  to  the  funeral  of  poor  Chaudet,  who,  on 
returning  from  Compiegne,  died  of  vexation  at  having  been 
ordered  to  make  a  bust  of  the  Empress,  in  conjunction  with 
another  artist.f  He  was  ill,  congestion  of  the  lungs  ensued, 
and  he  died.  Talking  of  artists,  they  are  all  wishing  for 
vou.  I  saw  Cherubini  at  the  Odeon  yesterdav,  and  he 
wants  you  to  come  back,  to  help  him  to  get  his  Mass  per- 
formed at  a  concert.  The  Mass  is  said  to  be  splendid ;  I 
asked  him  to  have  it  performed  at  my  house,  and  he  prom- 
ised me  he  would.  If  it  really  is  so  remarkably  good,  it 
might,  perhaps,  be  executed  on  some  occasion  of  ceremony. 
However,  he  did  not  seem  to  take  to  the  idea,  and  aj^pears 
no  longer  to  care  for  composing  music  for  the  great  ones  of 
the  earth.  He  is  at  work  at  an  opera  coinique^X  and  does 
not  seem  to  be  thinking  of  his  grand  opera. 

*  Savary,  Due  de  Rovigo,  was  not  at  that  time  Minister  of  Police.  He  was 
not  appointed  to  the  office  until  June  2,  1810. 

f  I  am  ignorant  wlio  this  booby  was.  Chaudet,  a  sculptor  and  painter,  had 
a  great  reputation.  The  statue  of  the  Emperor,  that  until  1814  was  on  the 
Vcndome  Column,  was  his  work,  as  was  Dugommier's  statue  at  Versailles,  and 
several  graceful  productions,  such  as  "  ffidipe  enfant,"  "  L' Amour  scduisant 
I'Ame,"  "Paul  et  Virginio,"  etc.     He  was  born  in  1763. 

X  This  opera  comique,  by  Cherubini,  is  probably  the  "  Crescendo,"  which 
met  with  no  success  at  the  Fcvdcau. 


254  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  REM U SAT. 


CLVII. 

TO    M.    UE    REMUSAT,  AT   COMPIEGNE. 

Paris,  April  25,  ISIO. 

I  AM  writing  to  you,  mon  ami,  without  knowing  w'betlier 
my  letter  can  go,  or  whether  the  Emperor  is  at  St.  Quentin, 
whether  you  are  to  accompany  him,  whether  you  are  coming 
home,  or  remaining  where  you  are.  .  .  . 

People  are  beginning  to  take  their  departure.  Mme. 
d'lloudetot  is  at  Sannois.  The  time  is  short,  and  I  am  sorry 
when  I  think  that  I,  too,  must  go  away  somewhere.  But 
where  ?  and  how  ?  All  this  uncertainty  wearies  me,  and  I 
try  my  best  not  to  look  beyond  the  end  of  each  day.  I 
should  not  dislike  this  one,  if  it  could  bring  you  back  to 
me  in  the  evening ;  I  persuade  myself  this  may  be  the  case, 
and  then  I  am  vexed  with  myself  for  the  delusion.  What 
weak  creatures  we  are ;  so  easily  troubled ;  with  so  little 
tendency  to  w^hat  is  good !  And  I — I  am  the  weakest  and 
most  imperfect  of  all !  Ah !  I  say  it  in  all  humility.  What- 
ever is  good  in  me  I  owe  to  you  ;  it  is  you  who  have  shel- 
tered, supported,  and  guided  me ;  without  your  sense,  your 
affection,  and  the  haj^piness  I  owe  you,  I  should,  perhaps, 
have  been  of  very  little  worth,  and  it  is  in  you  alone  that  I 
place  all  my  pride. 

Amedee  *  has  come  back  quite  enchanted  with  Italy ; 
the  two  together  compose  elegies  on  France.  Love  of  coun- 
try is  not  in  fashion.  What  else  can  I  tell  you  ?  There  is 
nothing  new  here,  and  I  know  but  little  about  the  theatres. 
Holy  Week  has  kept  me  away  from  them.  I  know  that 
people  crowded  the  Frangaise  to  suffocation  to  see  Talma 
in  "Manlius."  Mme.  Corria  is  not  much  liked;  she  is 
considered  inferior  to  the  two  others,  and  rightly  so ;  she 
is  talented,  nevertheless.     Her  voice  is  smothered  in  fat ; 

*  Amedee  Pastoret. 


M.   FORBIN\S  NOVEL.  255 

she  is  an  enormous  mass  rolling  about  on  the  boards.  M. 
de  Forbin's  *  novel  excites  controversy  in  society ;  he  is  told 
of  the  various  opinions  on  it,  and  becomes  quite  indignant. 
He  says  that  when  a  man  in  society  takes  the  trouble  to 
write  a  book,  society,  out  of  esprit  de  corps^  ought  to  defend 
it.  Lemercier  went  to  see  the  Abbe  Morellet.  "  Mon- 
sieur," said  he  on  entering,  "  this  is  not  a  visit  of  thanks." 
"Oh!  as  to  that,"  answered  the  Abbe,  "I  dispense  with 
your  thanks,  for  if  I  had  been  listened  to,  you  would  never 
have  belonged  to  the  Academy."  "  And  why  so,  sir  ? " 
"Ah!  because,  above  all,  one  should  speak  French.''''  "But 
wliich  of  my  works  has  given  you  this  opinion  of  me  ? " 
"  Unfortunately,  all  those  that  I  have  met  with  ;  among  the 
rest,  your  ode,  which  contains  forty  mistakes  in  French.^'' 
"  And  yet,  sir,  it  was  on  the  very  day  it  was  published  that 
I  was  elected  one  of  the  Forty.  Is  not  that  a  striking  fact '.  " 
"  Oh  !  I  know  you  have  wit,  and  plenty  of  it,  but  if  there 
are  two  or  three  similar  elections  the  language  will  be 
ruined." 

Lemercier  told  me  all  this,  with  good  humor  and  a  cer- 
tain simplicity  which  was,  however,  far  removed  from  hu- 
mility. 


CLYIII. 

TO   M,    DE    REMUSAT,    AT    PARIS. 

AvALLON,  Friday,  June  21,  ISIO. 

On !  how  delightful  a  thing  it  is  to  travel  post,t  and  how 
pleasant  to  wait  for  postilions,  to  put  on  the  drag,  to  toil 

*  M.  Augustc  de  Forbin,  an  amateur  artist,  who  under  the  Restoration  was 
iiinde  Director  of  the  Louvre,  had  written  a  novel  called  "  Charles  Barimore." 
lie  died  in  1841,  in  the  sixty-third  year  of  his  age. 

■f-  The  Emperor  and  the  Empress  Marie  Louise  returned  to  St.  Cloud  on 
May  31st,  after  visiting  St.  Qucntin,  Antwerp,  Brussels,  Ghent,  Ostend,  Lille,  Le 
Havre,  and  Rouen.  Mme.  de  R^musat  left  Paris  a  few  days  later,  to  join  the 
Empress  Josephine  at  Aix,  a  watering-place  in  Savoy. 


256  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  REM  US  AT. 

up  hill,  to  break  the  traces,  and  at  last  to  arrive  at  an  inn  at 
Avallon,  after  spending  the  whole  day  in  such  a  cloud  of 
dust  that  the  plan  of  a  landscape  garden  might  be  traced  on 
my  gown ! 

I  should  much  like  to  know  what  Mme.  Pastoret,  with 
all  her  cleverness,  could  find  to  say  here,  and  what  fine  feel- 
ings she  would  have  experienced  during  the  journey  I  have 
just  made.  Such  heat,  such  a  stifling  wind,  dust  of  which  I 
have  never  seen  the  like,  such  discomfort,  in  fact,  and  such 
weariness,  I  scarcely  had  time  to  think  of  anything  whatso- 
ever. Add  to  this  the  pleasant  reflection  that  all  these  de- 
lights are  carrying  me  away  from  you,  and  you  will  have 
some  idea  of  the  day  I  have  gone  through  !  In  the  morning, 
however,  I  had  experienced  a  little  patriotic  emotion ;  *  I 
had  been  affected  by  finding  myself  once  more  in  Burgundy  ; 
but  my  native  dust  has  rather  cooled  my  ardor  this  evening, 
and  I  beheld  Auxerre  and  the  banks  of  the  Yonne  with 
calmness.  As  for  Augustine,  she  is  in  a  state  of  perpetual 
enchantment.  Although  very  far  from  Val-de-Suzon,  the 
dialect  of  her  own  country  is  spoken  here ;  she  beholds  the 
head-gear  she  was  accustomed  to,  houses  like  her  own,  and 
she  is  delighted. 

1  am  not  over-tired.  I  shall  reach  Autun  early  to-mor- 
row, and  will  write  to  you  on  Sunday,  and  also  to  my  sister, 
to  whom  you  must  tell  all  my  news.  Kemember  me  to 
Mme.  de  Grasse ;  next  to  you  and  Charles,  it  is  she  whom  I 
most  regret.  I  feel  this,  and  she  will  believe  it.  Almost 
every  minute  I  am  saying,  "  If  Mme.  de  Grasse  were  here, 
we  would  do  such  a  thing ;  she  would  say  so  and  so."  And 
I  am  ready  to  cry  !  Poor  thing  !  she  has  been  spending  the 
evening  in  solitude.  I  have  been  following  you  in  thought ; 
you  are  now  at  St.  Cloud  with  Les  Mats  de  Blois.  It  sounds 
funny  at  Avallon,  Les  Mats  de  Blois  !  I  seem  to  belong  to 
another  world,  and  do  not  know  whereabouts  I  am.  .  .  . 

*  M.  de  Vergcnncs's  family  belonged  to  Burgundy. 


A    GREAT  STORM.  257 


CLX. 


TO   M.    DE   REMUSAT,  AT    PARIS. 

Aix,  Savoy,  Friday^  June  20,  ISIO. 

I  AM  here  at  last,  and  it  was  time  I  arrived,  for  I  am  very 
tired.  Yesterday  was  the  most  fatiguing  day  of  all,  and  as  I 
know  that  it  is  pleasant  to  hear  of  what  befalls  one's  friends 
on  their  travels,  and  that  all  I  have  to  do  is  to  narrate  my 
exj^erienees,  please  to  listen.  You  must  know  that  my  stay 
at  Lyons  did  not  rest  me  much.  I  explored  the  town  more 
from  human  respect  than  from  any  wish  to  see  it.  I  was 
even  then  rather  unwell ;  and,  besides,  my  bed  was  so  un- 
comfortable that  1  passed  the  first  night  in  an  arm-chair. 
The  second  night,  after  much  turning  and  tossing  about,  I 
suddenly  sprang  uj)  at  three  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and 
Avent  oil  to  harangue  Augustine,  who  was  sleeping  soundly. 
The  effect  of  my  discourse  was  to  stir  up  the  whole  house. 
Horses  were  ordered,  and  w^e  set  off  on  our  journey ;  but  by 
the  time  we  had  traveled  seven  or  eight  leagues  the  heat 
became  stifling,  the  air  heavy,  and  we  were  seized  with  head- 
ache, and  with  a  sort  of  nervous  affection  that  was  most 
painful.  We  continued  our  route,  however,  but  never  in 
my  life  was  I  so  ill  at  ease ;  at  last  the  storm  broke.  As  we 
M'cre  nearing  the  mountains,  a  great  tempest  arose,  with 
showers  of  hail  that  devastated  all  the  surrounding  crops  in 
a  moment.  Fortunately,  we  were  able  to  reach  the  Pont  do 
Beauvoisin,  and  I  waited  at  the  inn  for  the  storm  to  be  over ; 
it  was  then  four  o'clock,  I  did  not  want  to  remain  there, 
and  yet  was  afraid  to  go  on,  and  we  were  still,  they  told  me, 
six  hours  from  Chambcry.  At  length,  when  the  thunder 
was  passing  away,  we  resumed  our  journey ;  but  the  rain 
gave  us  a  somewhat  melancholy  impression  of  the  country. 
The  Echelles  road  will  l)e  a  fine  one  when  completed,  but  at 
present  it  is  incumbered  with  stone  for  the  parapets,  with 


258  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  REM  US  AT. 

carts,  and  witli  workmen,  and  is  very  inconvenient.     We 
had  good  horses  and  a  careful  driver,  yet  Angnstine  was  in 
such  a  state  of  terror  that  I  was  seriously  alarmed.     Once, 
when  we  were  -on  the  mountain-side,  with  a  precipice  be- 
neath us,  she  was  so  overcome  with  fear  that  she  began  to 
scream.     I  endeavored  to  soothe  her,  but  she  had  lost  all 
control  over  herself.     I  scolded,  I  coaxed,  but  nothing  was 
of  any  avail.     I  was  not  in  the  least  nervous  myself,  but  suf- 
fered a  good  deal  from  the  continual  jolting.     I  wonder 
whether  you  recollect  that  last  hill,  after  the  Echelles,  in 
which  the  road  has  been  cut  through  the  rock,  and  only  oxen 
are  used  for  traffic?     The  rain  was  ceasing,  so  I  walked  up, 
for  the  only  means  of  relief  was  a  change  in  the  form  of  fa- 
tigue.    It  is  really  a  most  extraordinary  road,  but  one  ought 
to  be  in  good  health  to  go  in  search  of  a  cure  in  this  fashion. 
I  arrived  at  last  at  Chambery,  at  eleven  o'clock  at  night, 
quite  worn  out  with  fatigue.     I  slept  better  than  at  Lyons, 
and  this  morning,  at  eight,  we  entered  Aix.     I  am  suffering 
less  than  yesterday,  and  am  writing  in  bed,  the  most  singu- 
lar bed  in  the  world.     There  is  a  paillasse  of  wheaten  straw, 
and  a  mattress  of  I  do  not  know  what  material.     Mme.  de 
Grasse,  who  objects  to  feather-beds  for  me,  would  approve 
of  this.     The  country  through  which  we  came  seemed  very 
pretty,  but  this  village  is  ugly.     The  Empress  is  living  in  a 
small  house  with  Mme.  d'Audenarde,  and  I  have  been  put 
into  another  with  MM.  de  Turpin  and  Pourtalis.*     I  was 
not  expected  to  arrive  before  Sunday.    I  found  a  large  room 
destined  for  me,  but  without  any  furniture  whatever.     Au- 
gustine is  exerting  herself  to  procure  a  table,  a  chair,  etc. 
And  I  am  writing  to  you,  and  trying  to  laugh  at  all  these 
absurd  annoyances. 

*  Mme.  d'Audenarde,  the  mother  of  General  d'Audenarde.  She  was  Lady- 
iu- Waiting.  M.  de  Turpin-Crisse,  of  the  Empress's  household,  was  known  as  a 
landscape  painter  of  some  talent.  M.  Fritz  Tourtalis,  also  belonging  to  the 
Empress's  household,  was  from  Ncuchatel.  His  elder  brother  died  in  Paris, 
about  twenty  years  ago,  leaving  a  fine  collection  of  pictures  and  antiquities. 


NO  LETTERS.  259 

The  Empress  lias  paid  me  a  visit ;  she  is  well,  seems  to 
1)0  ill  good  spirits,  and  goes  about  a  good  deal.  I  hope  I 
shall  not  have  to  accompany  her  just  yet,  for  I  am  really  in 
want  of  rest.  There  are  no  visitors  here  besides  herself  and 
us ;  she  seemed  very  glad  to  see  me,  and,  as  usual,  was  all 
kindness. 

This  is  how  things  are,  cher  ami.  I  shall  write  to  you 
very  often  ;  I  foresee  that  will  be  my  only  pleasure.  I  mean 
to  try  and  profit  by  the  waters  here,  and  repair  the  fatigues 
of  my  journey.  I  have  some  hopes  of  receiving  letters  to- 
day— the  post  comes  in  daily ;  you  must  all  write  punctually 
and  take  compassion  on  my  lonehness.  I  embrace  you  ten- 
derly. 

CLXI. 

TO   M.    DE   REMUSAT,    AT    PAEIS. 

Aix,  Satot,  July  2,  ISIO. 

"What  are  you  all  about  that  you  do  not  wi-ite  to  me,  and 
especially  that  faithless  woman  on  whom  I  relied,  and  who 
has  failed  me  like  the  rest?  What  do  you  imagine  us 
to  be  doing  here,  and  with  what  do  you  expect  me  to  be 
occupying  myself  ?  You  really  deserve  that  I  also  should 
take  to  silence,  and  see  that  you  are  counting  on  the  idleness 
of  my  life.  Don't  deceive  yourself,  however ;  I  have  not 
quite  as  much  leisure  time  as  you  might  imagine.  I  bathe 
at  eight  o'clock,  and  then  return  to  bed  until  ten.  At 
eleven  I  breakfast  at  the  palace,  and  all  the  rest  of  the  morn- 
ing we  read  and  work.  The  Empress,  as  you  know,  likes  to 
have  people  about  her,  and  does  not  retire  to  her  own  room 
before  four  o'clock,  or  even  five  sometimes.  I  then  go  to 
mine ;  I  read  a  little  or  I  write ;  dinner  is  at  six ;  after  din- 
ner we  walk  about.  I  am  sometimes  excused  from  accom- 
panying her  on  account  of  my  infirmities.  .  .  . 


260  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  REMUS  AT. 


CLXII. 

TO   M.  DE   REMUSAT,   AT    PARIS. 

Aix,  Satot,  Friday,  July  6,  1810. 

Mon  ami,  anotlier  day  has  gone  by,  and  no  letter  from 
you.  I  say  to  myself  that  your  week  of  waiting  at  St. 
Cloud  must  have  left  you  but  little  leisure,  and  yet  I  suffer 
and  torment  myself  just  as  if  this  reason  for  taking  comfort 
did  not  exist.  Yesterday,  as  we  were  on  our  way  to  Cham- 
bery,  the  Empress  was  met  by  her  courier ;  he  was  the 
bearer  of  a  letter  from  the  Yiceroy,  containing  an  account  of 
the  accident  at  the  Austrian  ambassador's  ball.*  It  seems 
there  were  about  twenty  persons  burned.  I  shuddered  as  I 
listened  to  the  Viceroy's  letter.  I  was  expecting  to  hear 
your  name,  and  I  was  in  an  agony.  When  the  Empress 
ceased  reading,  I  burst  into  tears,  and  I  know  not  how  it 
was,  but  nothing  could  calm  me ;  a  violent  headache  came 
on,  and  in  that  state  I  had  to  endure  a  drive  of  ten  leagues. 
Less  than  this  would  have  sufficed  to  make  me  very  ill.  I 
got  back  at  eight  o'clock  with  a  frightful  headache;  I 
passed  a  restless  night,  and  am  completely  knocked  up  this, 
morning.  .  .  . 


CLXIII. 

TO   M.    DE   REMUSAT,    AT   PARIS. 

Aix,  Satoy,  Monday,  July  9,  1810. 

At  last  I  have  a  letter  from  you !  ...  If  you  care  to 
know  what  we  are  doing  here,  I  must  tell  you  things  are  just 
as  usual.  With  the  exception  of  a  few  visits  from  Chambery, 
we  live  all  to  ourselves.     A  little  reading  in  the  morning,  a 

*  During  the  grand  ball  given  by  Prince  Schwarzenbcrg  on  July  2d,  in  honor 
of  the  Emperor's  marriage,  a  fire  broke  out,  and  a  great  number  of  persons 
perished,  the  Princess  included. 


JOSKPniNE.  261 

drive  afterward,  dinner  at  eight  on  account  of  the  heat,  then 
cards  and  a  little  music.  Cliarles  de  Flahault  is  here,  and  M. 
and  Mme.  de  Chateaubriand.  There  is  also  a  Mme.  de  Sales, 
a  descendant  of  the  family  of  St.  Francis  de  Sales.  She  seems 
pleasant  enough,  but  you  can  understand  that  in  presence  of 
the  Empress  there  is  always  a  certain  amount  of  ceremony. 
Josephine  herself  is  serene  and  mild.  "  Sometimes,"  she 
said  to  me,  "  repose  takes  the  place  of  happiness."  She  be- 
haves with  extraordinary  circumspection ;  she  need  say  but 
one  word,  and  the  most  assiduous  court  would  be  paid  her. 
The  authorities  of  the  neighboring  towns  wished  to  pay 
their  respects,  but  she  declined  everything,  simply  and  'vvith 
no  appearance  of  constraint.  Great  regard  and  deference  is 
shown  for  her  everywhere.  She  speaks  of  the  Emperor  as  she 
ought  and  when  she  ought ;  in  fact,  it  is  impossible  to  show 
more  tact  and  moderation.  But  notwithstandino:  her  resis:- 
nation,  sometimes,  when  sorrow  oppresses  her,  she  makes 
me  a  sign,  and  comes  to  give  vent  to  it  with  me.  I  exert 
myself  to  divert  her  thoughts  and  encourage  her,  and  she 
willingly  receives  all  the  consolations  that  reason  can  offer 
her.  It  appears  that  when  Charles  de  Flahault  left  Plombi- 
eres,  the  Queen  was  more  seriously  indisposed  than  we  had 
thought.*  The  Empress  is  not  anxious  about  her,  but  believes 
she  is  better.  This  is  a  chord  I  dare  not  strike.  "We  arc 
expecting  the  Viceroy.  There  is  a  report  that  the  Empress 
is  enceinte,  f  I  can  say  with  truth  that  I  have  been  witness 
to  Josephine's  sincere  joy  at  this  news ;  and,  indeed,  such  an 
event  would  be  the  reward  of  her  great  sacrifice. 

*  Queen  Hortense. 

f  Tlic  Empress  Marie  Louise.  The  report  in  question  seems  to  have  been 
rather  premature.  However,  as  the  King  of  Rome  was  born  on  March  20,  1811, 
we  can  but  admire  the  rapidity  with  which  good  news  is  disseminated. 


262  LETTERS   OF  MADAME  DE  R^MUSAT. 


CLXIY. 

TO    M.    DE   REMUS  AT,    AT    PARIS, 

Aix,  Satot,  July  14,  ISIO. 

We  are  alone  to-day.  The  Empress  has  gone  to  Geneva 
to  see  her  daiighter-in-law,  who  stopped  there,  being  too  fa- 
tigued to  come  on  ;  she  will  not  return  until  to-morrow.  She 
took  with  her  MM.  Pourtalis  and  de  Flahault,  and  Mme.  d'Au- 
denarde.  The  Viceroy,  whom  we  saw  yesterday,  gave  us  the 
melancholy  details  of  the  accident  at  that  unlucky  ball.  .  .  . 

Our  circle  is  very  pleasant.  Charles  de  Flahault  enlivens 
us  ;  he  has  more  in  him  and  more  talent  for  conversation  than 
I  should  have  expected ;  he  is  very  gay,  he  sings  well,  and  we 
all  like  him.  The  country  is  really  beautiful ;  it  needs  better 
legs  than  mine  to  explore  it,  but  I  am  delighted  with  what  I 
have  seen,  and  I  hear  that  I  shall  travel  through  very  tine 
scenery  on  my  way  to  Geneva.  .  .  . 

Mme.  Cheron  writes  that  Saint- Ange  *  will  probably  be 
elected  to  the  Institute.  Mme.  de  Grasse  speaks  of  a  com- 
97i{ssio7i  for  the  prizes,  and  seems  rather  anxious  about 
Spontini.  Is  this  true  ?  And,  by-the-by,  what  has  happened 
to  Mme.  Festa,  f  and  how  have  you  had  the  heart  to  make 
her  begin  the  "  Molinara  "  again  ?  Why  was  I  not  there  to 
protest  against  it  ?  You  are  really  very  generous  to  regret 
me,  for  I  should  have  made  a  strong  protest.  The  "  Journal 
de  Paris  "  speaks  very  unfavorably  of  the  poor  woman. 

*  Saint-Ange,  the  translator  of  Ovid,  did,  in  fact,  succeed  Domerque  at  the 
Academy.  He  was  in  bad  health,  and  died  soon  afterward,  in  that  same  year, 
1810.  "  The  shade  of  the  Academician  whose  place  I  take  is  now  waiting  for 
my  own,"  he  said  in  the  speech  he  made  on  his  reception. 

f  An  Italian  singer.  "  La  Molinara,"  as  everybody  knows,  is  an  opera  by 
Paesiello. 


JOS&PEINE.  263 


CLXV. 

TO   M.    PE    REMUSAT,    AT    TARIS. 

Aix,  Savoy,  July^  1S10. 
...  It  is  impossible  to  be  witli  the  Empress  without  de- 
siring to  repay  her  by  sedulous  attention  for  the  pleasantness 
slie  infuses  into  one's  daily  life,  and  if  I  were  often  to  shut 
myself  up  in  my  own  room,  or  if  I  gave  way  to  my  natural 
depression,  it  would  really  be  too  selfish.  She  likes  to  be  in 
company,  and  is  amused  by  the  stories  I  tell  her ;  I  can  suc- 
ceed in  making  her  laugh.  She  shows  her  pleasure  in  my 
society  in  a  thousand  different  ways.  In  short,  she  is  really 
charming,  and  of  an  angelic  disposition ;  so  much  so  that  I 
know  my  heart  will  ache  when  I  leave  her,  although  I 
shall  be  so  happy  to  be  going  back  to  yon.  I  shall  probably 
return  home  within  the  month.  The  Empress  intends  to 
leave  Aix  between  the  15th  and  20th  of  August.  She  is 
about  to  take  a  small  house  on  the  Lake  of  Geneva  ;  this  will 
be  her  headquarters  while  she  travels  about  Switzerland. 
She  wishes  me  to  accompany  her  to  Geneva,  and  not  to  leave 
her  until  she  sets  out  on  her  expedition  to  the  mountains. 
As  there  is  not  much  time  for  all  she  wants  to  accomplish,  I 
don't  think  she  will  remain  long  on  the  banks  of  the  lake,  nor 
that  I  shall  be  kept  long  away  from  you. 


CLXYI. 

TO    M.    I)E    KEMUSAT,    AT    PARIS. 

Aix,  Savoy,  Juhj  IS,  ISIO. 
.  .  .  You  might  write  at  great  length  concerning  that  aw- 
ful accident  *  without  making  us  feel  that  you  say  too  much 

*  The  catastrophe  at  the  ball,  alluded  to  in  the  preceding  letters. 


264  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  I)E  REMUSAT. 

about  it.  I  am  convinced  that  we  are  even  more  horrified  by 
it  here  than  you  are  in  the  whirl  of  Paris.  The  Empress  was 
greatly  shocked ;  she  was  attached  by  many  ties  to  the  Prin- 
cesse  de  Leyen,  who  was,  moreover,  an  excellent  woman. 
The  Emperor's  danger  affected  her  deeply ;  she  wept,  and 
her  tears  gave  me  pain.  "  How  strange  is  our  situation  !  " 
she  said.  "  A  bond  that  is  still  so  strong,  while  our  interests 
have  become  so  different ! "  Her  son's  visit  was  of  great 
service  to  her,  and  she  is  expecting  her  daughter,  who  is 
coming  here  for  the  season.  The  latter  is  said  to  be  still  in 
a  weak  and  suffering  condition.  The  Empress  is  glad  that  I 
am  here  ;  the  Queen,  as  you  know,  is  fond  of  me,  and  I  shall 
tend  her  with  my  whole  heart.  I  am  sure,  too,  that  such  an 
occupation  will  do  me  good ;  my  only  comfort,  when  away 
from  you,  is  in  being  of  some  little  use,  and  that  amiable 
and  interesting  woman  is  very  dear  to  me.  Lebreton  *  has 
written  me  a  very  melancholy  letter ;  he  seems  greatly  dis- 
tressed at  the  death  of  the  Princess.  He,  too,  was  very  near 
going  to  that  terrible  ball.  .  ,  . 

Mme.  Cheron  writes  that  our  children  are  studying  with 
Auvray  ;  f  if  they  could  remain  with  him  next  year„it  would 
be  a  good  thing.  I  am  not  expecting  much  in  the  way  of 
prizes ;  it  strikes  me  that  otir  boy  is  working  less  industri- 
ously, but  I  have  not  the  courage  to  scold  him  from  such  a 
distance.  You  can  sermonize  so  well  that  I  depute  my 
powers  to  you.  I  presume  that  at  the  time  of  his  first  Com- 
munion you  will  say  a  few  words  of  fatherly  exhortation. 

*  M.  Lebreton,  a  member  of  the  Institute  and  Secretary  of  the  Class  of 
Fine  Arts,  was  a  married  priest,  and  a  clever  and  agreeable  man.  He  was  on 
an  intimate  footing  in  my  grandparents'  house,  and  was  considered  as  a  friend. 
He  vanished  somewhat  suddenly  from  the  scene,  and  died  in  Brazil,  whither  he 
betook  himself  at  the  Restoration.     His  daughter  married  Dr.  Jules  Cloquet. 

f  M.  Auvray  was  at  that  time  Professor  at  the  head  of  the  Fifth  Class  at  the 
Lycee  Napoleon.  He  was  subsequently  Proviseur  and  Academical  Inspector.  I 
became  acquainted  with  him  when  attending  the  Concours  General.  He  super- 
intended us  during  our  compositions,  and  he  has  often  spoken  to  me  about  my 
father's  childhood. 


AIX.  265 

I  shall  lament  very  much  being  absent  from  that  ceremony ; 
I  remember  liow  my  poor  mother  wept  on  tlie  occasion  of  my 
first  Communion,  and  that  tender  recollection  would  have 
gone  with  me  as  I  accompanied  my  son.  By  the  way — and  you 
will  see  that  the  remark  is  very  appropriate — I  have  found 
time,  in  the  midst  of  all  the  interruptions  of  the  life  I  am 
leadinof  here,  to  look  into  a  serious  book,  which  I  find  most 
interesting.  M.  Pourtalis  has  lent  me  a  "  Life  of  Zwinglius," 
written  by  a  Swiss.*  This  seems  to  me  a  meritorious  book ; 
I  have  but  one  objection  to  it,  that  it  rather  inclines  me 
toward  Protestantism.  Mme.  de  Grasse  will  shudder  at  this, 
but  really  the  Protestants,  at  any  rate  just  then,  seem  to  have 
reason  on  their  side.  If  I  continue  in  this  mood,  I  shall  come 
to  your  help  in  your  discussions  with  her,  and  will  bring 
Councils  to  bear  on  her. 


CLXYII. 

TO   M.  DE    KEMUSAT,    AT   PARIS. 

Aix,  Savoy,  Friday,  July  20,  ISIO. 

The  longer  I  am  here,  the  more  I  wish  for  you.  I  am 
sure  you  would  like  this  country  so  much,  and  would  take 
prodigious  walks  with  your  boy !  It  is  really  a  charming 
part  of  the  world.  The  mountains  are  less  lofty  and  less 
gloomy  than  the  Pyrenees,  and  the  valley,  which  is  more 
open,  is  wonderfully  verdant.  I  made  yesterday  a  little  ex- 
cursion, adapted  to  my  strength,  to  see  a  most  beautiful  cas- 
cade ;  there  are  three  waterfalls  side  by  side  and  tumbling 
into  each  other,  masses  of  rock  breaking  the  waters  into  cas- 
cades, and  at  the  back  a  little  torrent  rushing  away  through 
splendid  trees.     There  is  not  the  same  sensation  of  surprise 

*  This  "Life  of  Zwinglius,"  the  founder  of  the  Reformation  in  Switzerland, 
must  be  Hesse's  work,  published  in  that  same  year,  1810. 
12 


266  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  BE  REMUS  AT. 

here  as  at  Cauterets,  but  one  is  more  satisfied.  The  horizon 
is  not  so  narrow,  and,  for  my  own  part,  I  iind  that  I  breatlie 
more  easily  here.  The  town  of  Aix  is  very  ugly,  and  I  have 
a  dull  lodging  in  a  sort  of  No  Thoroughfare,  with  a  high 
wall  in  front,  which  makes  my  room  very  dark.  If  I  were 
to  return  here,  I  should  try  to  get  rooms  nearer  the  country, 
as  I  am  so  bad  a  walker ;  but  this  year  it  does  not  signify 
much,  because  I  am  constantly  with  the  Emj>ress,  whose 
house  stands  on  the  outskirts  of  the  village.  When  the 
weather  is  fine,  I  can  walk  over  to  her ;  when  it  rains,  I  am 
carried  in  a  fine  glass  chair,  all  gilt,  that  belonged  once  upon 
a  time  to  the  King  of  Sardinia ;  and  in  this  vehicle,  when  I 
am  in  full  dress,  I  am  the  delight  of  the  little  children  of 
the  place,  and  am  followed  about  by  them,  as  the  Archchan- 
cellor  is  followed  at  the  Palais  Royal.  You  can,  of  course, 
imagine  that  wdien  the  Empress  goes  out  she  has  much 
greater  crowds  after  her.  This,  in  fact,  is  the  one  drawback 
to  our  outings.  We  can  not  take  a  step  without  attracting 
the  water-drinkers  and  the  inhabitants  ;  true,  our  being  here 
is  a  rather  important  fact  to  poor  people  and  gouty  invalids. 
The  elegant  carriage,  fine  horses,  liveries,  and  our  own 
dresses,  all  make  a  great  sensation,  and,  in  the  midst  of  it  all, 
the  sweet,  gentle,  kindly  countenance  of  my  mistress.  Peo- 
ple come  from  Chambery,  from  Geneva,  from  Turin,  and 
from  Grenoble  only  to  see  her.  She  excites  the  deepest  in- 
terest. I  am  pleased  to  observe  that  no  one  believes  she  has 
become  a  stranger  to  the  Emperor,  for  she  receives  many 
petitions  addressed  to  him,  and  people  regard  her  as  a  media- 
trix between  the  unfortunate  and  him.  She  receives  every 
one  with  extraordinary  kindness,  and  does  much  unostenta- 
tious good  in  the  neighborhood.  She  did  her  best  to  escape 
from  a  really  embarrassing  welcome  at  Geneva,  and  I  am 
always  struck  with  her  skill  in  simplifying  a  situation  that  at 
first  seems  unmanageably  awkward ;  the  reason  is  that  she  is 
absolutely  devoid  of  vanity,  and  never  aims  at  effect.  She 
speaks  of  the  Emperor  as  of  a  brother,  of  the  new  Empress 


ZWINGLIUS.  267 

as  the  future  mother  of  the  children  of  France ;  and  if  what 
we  hear  of  the  condition  of  the  latter  be  true,  I  am  sure  slie 
will  be  glad. 


CLXVIII. 


TO   M.    DE    REMLSAT,    AT    PARIS. 


Aix,  Savoy,  July  21,  1810. 

Pray  tell  me  how  my  cure  is  getting  on  ?  Do  you  see 
him  ?  Is  he  happy  ?  Does  he  intend  to  remain  ?  Shall  I 
see  him  on  my  return  %  I  am  rather  offended  with  him.  I 
hear  nothing  of  him  ;  he  is  forgetting  me.  I  wrote  to  him 
a  long  time  ago,  and  hardly  expect  an  answer  now,  and  cer- 
tainly I  shall  not  write  again.* 

For  the  last  four  days  the  weather  has  been  dreadful — 
rain,  hail,  and  intense  cold.  It  was  snowing  on  the  moun- 
tain the  day  before  yesterday,  and  we  had  fires.  During  this 
wretched  weather  I  finished  the  "  Life  of  Zwinglius."  The 
Anabaptists  have  rather  cooled  my  zeal  for  Protestantism. 
I  see  there  are  objections  to  that  religion,  too  ;  but  I  like  the 
book.  I  am  now  reading  the  Memoirs  of  Prince  Eugene. 
The  Prince  de  Ligne's  pretense  was  a  curious  one,  and  very 
ill-sustained.  At  the  second  page  one  can  see  it  is  a  mere 
invention ;  and  the  style  is  that  of  drawing-room  conversa- 
tion thirty  years  ago.f  .  .  . 

*  The  cure  is  no  other  than  M.  de  Talleyrand. 

f  The  Prince  de  Ligne  had  just  published  his  "  Tie  de  Prince  Eugene,  ecrite 
{)ar  lui-memc."  It  will  be  understood,  of  course,  that  it  referred  to  Prince 
Eugene  of  Savoy,  and  not  to  Prince  Eugene  Beauharnais. 


268  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  BE  REMUS  AT. 


CLXIX. 

TO    M.    DE    KEMUSAT,    AT   PARIS. 

Aix,  Satoy,  July  25,  ISIO. 

The  Empress  wishes  to  make  Geneva  lier  headquarters 
for  ten  days,  and  to  travel  in  Switzerland.  When  this  hap- 
pens, I  sliall  take  my  flight.  I  am  strongly  advised  to  return 
by  Lausanne,  Neuchatel,  and  Besan§on.  They  tell  me  that 
route  is  not  much  longer,  and  that  I  shall  avoid  bad  roads. 
By  doing  this,  I  should  see  the  shores  of  the  Lake  of  Geneva, 
a  great  temptation  to  me,  and  I  should  revive  some  recollec- 
tions of  my  childhood.  I  think  it  is  probable  I  shall  decide 
upon  this  course.  When  I  arrive  at  Geneva,  I  will  tell  you 
what  decision  I  have  come  to.  .  .  . 

Yesterday  the  Empress  asked  me  which  of  the  two  I 
loved  best,  you  or  Charles.  "  My  husband,  madame,"  I  re- 
plied, in  the  tone  with  which  you  are  familiar.  Mme.  d'Au- 
denarde  looked  up.  "  Really,"  said  the  Empress,  "  you  an- 
swer in  a  resolute  tone."  "  Madame,  I  answer  as  1  feel." 
"  M.  de  Eemusat  is  very  amiable,  then  ? "  "  Amiable !  O 
madame ! "  and  then  I  did  not  know  how  to  begin,  and  a 
moment  after  I  did  not  know  how  to  end.  "  If  all  this  be 
so,  how  happy  you  are ! "  "  Yes."  I  should  have  liked  to 
say,  "  But  how  much  we  suffer  in  being  parted  as  we  are  !  " 
I  did  not  say  this ;  I  restrained  myself ;  but  the  tears  came 
into  my  eyes,  and  I  talked  I  don't  know  what  nonsense  to 
escape  from  my  thoughts.  I  promise  you  that  you  shall  not 
have  to  complain  of  me  in  this  respect.  Nobody  knows  that 
I  sufli'er  from  my  separation  from  you  and  from  my  children. 
As  the  holiday  time  approaches,  my  heart  sinks  more  and 
more,  but  no  one  shall  be  let  into  my  secret.  It  is  ridiculous 
to  trouble  other  people  with  one's  affairs,  and  the  poor  Em- 
press is  sorrowful  enough  on  her  own  account.  The  affairs 
of  Holland  distress  her  greatly,  and  she  is  much  troubled 


AN  EXCURSION.  269 

about  tlie  future  of  her  daughter  and  the  position  of  her 
grandchildren.*  I  do  my  best  to  quiet  her,  urging  her 
strongly  to  trust  the  EmjDeror,  and  also  not  to  go  faster  than 
the  time.  At  an  epoch  so  full  of  strange  events,  an  excess 
of  foresight  is  a  mistake ;  one  must  submit  and  hope,  and  I 
say  to  the  Empress  what  I  believe :  "  The  Emperor  will  not 
visit  the  faults  of  their  father  upon  his  nephews.  You  are 
placed  in  a  painful  position,  apart  from  the  action  of  the 
Court,  while  you  are  obliged,  all  the  same,  to  feel  and  suffer 
from  its  troubles.  It  requires  great  firmness  of  character 
and  extreme  reasonableness  to  act  wisely  in  the  midst  of  all 
this."  The  Empress  is  deeply  sensible  of  the  services  which 
I  render  her ;  she  is  very  happy  to  have  me  with  her ;  she 
calls  me  and  looks  for  me  incessantly.  I  listen  to  her,  con- 
sole her,  and  try  to  amuse  her  by  talking  of  other  things ;  for 
it  weakens  the  judgment  to  dwell  too  long  upon  certain  sub- 
jects, and  our  reasonable  course  is  to  wait,  not  to  make  long 
and  anxious  forecasts,  and  to  trust  to  a  superior  authority, 
which  we  may  be  sure  is  a  beneficent  one. 


CLXX. 


TO   M.    DE   KEMUSAT,    AT.  PARIS. 


Aix,  Satot,  July  21,  ISIO. 

I  DO  not  understand  what  M,  de  Talleyrand  has  said  to 
yoa.  He  declares  that  he  has  written  to  me,  but  as  I  receive 
all  my  other  letters,  I  can  not  suppose  that  his  only  do  not 
reach  me,  and  I  conclude  that  he  has  yielded  to  his  usual 
indolence.  I  beg  you  will  tell  him  this,  but  at  the  same 
time  say  that  I  forgive  him. 

Yesterday  we  made  a  long  excursion,  but  it  was  not  too 
fatiguing,  because  it  w\as  partly  by  water.     We  drove  about 

*  Louis  Bonaparte  had  just  broken  with  his  wife  and  with  the  Eriperor,  and 
Holland  had  been  united  to  the  Empire  on  the  9th  of  July,  18Ui. 


S!70  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  RKMJJ8AT. 

two  leagues  on  the  opposite  side  of  a  lake,  called  Le  Bourget, 
which  is  of  considerable  extent,  to  see  the  ruins  of  an  old 
abbey,  which  formerly  belonged  to  the  monks  of  the  Cister- 
cian order.  The  situation  of  the  abbey  is  very  picturesque. 
It  is  built  on  a  tongue  of  land  in  the  middle  of  the  lake, 
which  is  surrounded  on  all  sides  by  peaked  and  barren  moun- 
tains. No  vegetation  is  to  be  seen  ;  profound  silence  reigns 
all  around.  The  aspect  of  the  place  is  so  entirely  solitary 
that  I  can  easily  conceive  this  retreat  having  been  chosen  by 
persons  whose  object  was  to  break  entirely  with  the  world. 
The  abbey  is  called  Haute  Combe.  Two  popes  came  out  of 
it.  It  dates  back  to  very  remote  times,  and  the  remains  of 
the  church  are  very  fine.  Within  a  quarter  of  a  league  of 
this  building  there  is  an  intermittent  spring,  which  yields 
water  in  abundance  during  several  hours  in  the  day,  at  vari- 
ous and  uncertain  periods.  The  cause  of  this  phenomenon 
has  never  been  ascertained.  We  remained  for  an  hour  and 
a  half  beside  the  rock,  but  the  water  did  not  appear,  and  the 
naiad  was  deaf  to  our  entreaties.*  On  returning  here,  we 
found  one  of  the  Queen's  Chamberlains  come  to  announce 
her  Majesty's  arrival  for  to-morrow.  This  intelligence  gave 
the  Empress  great  pleasure. 


CLXXII. 

TO   M.    DE   REMUSAT,  AT   PARIS. 

Aix,  Savoy,  July  30,  1810. 

'     .  .  .  The  Queen  has  arrived.     She  is  thin,  pale,  down- 
hearted, and  always  ready  to  cry  without  exactly  knowing 

*  In  this  account  of  the  expedition  of  the  Empress  to  the  abbey  of  Haute 
Combe,  the  tempest  which  she  encountered  on  the  lake,  and  which  made  a  great 
sensation  at  the  time,  is  purposely  omitted.  My  grandmother's  first  intention 
was  to  conceal  the  danger  which  she  had  incurred  from  her  husband,  but  know- 
ing that  others  had  mentioned  it  in  writing,  she  changed  her  mind,  and  sent  him 
a  detailed  account  in  a  letter  which  has  been  lost. 


DEPARTURE.  271 

why.  "  Madame,"  said  I  to  lier,  "  take  courage,  and  take 
care  of  your  health.  Your  misfortune  is  not  a  misfortune, 
for  your  heart  is  not  wounded  by  it.  The  Emperor  has  re- 
ceived your  children  perfectly  well ;  he  takes  care  of  them  ; 
he  watches  over  them ;  they  arc  in  France ;  you  will  see 
them  again  this  winter.  You  are  with  your  mother.  You 
must  think  of  all  this  ;  sleep,  eat,  and  leave  the  rest  to  God 
and  the  Emperor."  She  smiled  at  my  little  harangue,  but  I 
believe  she  thinks  I  am  in  the  right.  Oh !  if  we  could  but 
limit  ourselves  to  the  evils  that  we  must  bear!  "May  God 
deliver  us  from  our  friends  !  "  says  the  Portuguese  proverb  ; 
I  would  add,  '•  May  God  deliver  us  from  ourselves  !  "  I  have 
my  reasons  for  saying  this ;  there  are  moments  when  I  would 
fly  away  from  myself,  on  condition,  however,  that  it  should 
be  you  who  would  find  me.  .  .  . 


CLXXIII. 

TO    M.    DE    REMUSAT,    AT    PARIS. 

Aix,  Savoy,  Friday,  August  10,  1810. 

It  is  all  settled.  I  shall  leave  Aix  this  day  week  ;  there 
is  no  more  question  of  Geneva  and  Switzerland.  I  shall 
come  by  the  shortest  way,  to  Jura,  Dijon,  Troyes,  and  Paris. 
I  shall  be  five  or  six  days  on  the  road,  so  make  your  own  cal- 
culation when  to  expect  me.  Do  not  write  to  Dijon,  as  I 
shall  arrive  there  late,  and  the  post  will  be  closed. 

I  am  charmed  with  the  Trianon  arrangement,  *  because 
you  can  give  me  a  few  minutes  sometimes.  I  feared  lest  you 
should  not  go  there.  All  is  for  the  best.  Heaven  is  on  our 
side  this  time  ;  my  joy  is  too  natural  not  to  be  approved  on 
liigh,  and  I  feel  that  I  merit  the  happiness  which  awaits  me. 

*  The  Emperor  had  taken  up  his  abode  at  Trianon. 


272  LETTERS   OF  MADAME  DE  REMUSAT. 

Do  what  you  can  for  my  cousin,  I  approve  all  that  you  do. 
You  are  really  excellent ;  your  kindness  delights,  but  can 
never  surprise  me.  .  .  . 

M.  and  Mrae.  de  Tascher  arrived  here  yesterday.  The 
poor  little  woman  is  very  sorrowful,  and  talks  a  great  deal 
of  her  mother.  As  you  may  suppose,  I  listen  to  her  gladly. 
The  young  husband  was  taken  ill  with  gout  on  the  way, 
and  so  seriously  that  he  can  not  put  his  foot  to  the  ground, 
and  is  in  terrible  suffering.  .  .  . 

The  Empress  is  growing  fat,  and  looks  better  than  I  have 
seen  her.  She  grieves  at  parting  with  me,  and  I  feel  that 
my  heart  will  sink  at  bidding  her  farewell,  for  she  is  very, 
very  good  to  me.  Her  daughter  is  still  extremely  delicate, 
but  she  no  longer  spits  blood.  Peace  of  mind  and  the  variety 
of  a  journey  in  Switzerland,  which  she  proposes  to  make, 
will  do  her  a  great  deal  of  good.  They  are  to  set  out  hence 
on  the  25th,  and  they  do  not  return  until  October.  Thus, 
you  see,  I  shall  be  able  to  pass  the  month  of  September  in 
perfect  quiet,  I  shall  devote  it  to  delightful  idleness.  Our 
life  here  is  one  of- continual  movement ;  we  come,  we  go,  we 
are  always  together,  we  dress,  we  play  cards — in  short,  we 
are  never  quiet,  and  that  dear  idleness  that  I  love  so  much  es- 
capes me.  I  anx  astonished  that  I  could  have  found  time  to 
write  so  much  and  so  often  to  you  as  I  have  done,  for  the  in- 
terruptions are  perpetual.  Everybody  here  has  been  very 
amiable  to  me,  M.  d'Audenarde  is  a  pleasant  companion  ; 
Mile,  de  Macau  is  charming  and  agreeable ;  the  two  young 
people,  attentive  and  polite ;  Charles  de  Flahault,  very  amus- 
ing. In  short,  it  is  a  little  society  which  pleases  me  and  is 
pleased  with  me ;  it  would  not  be  my  place  to  say  that  it  re- 
grets to  lose  me.  You  know  how  gay  I  am,  and  they  say 
there  will  be  no  more  laughter  when  I  shall  be  gone.  It  will 
now  be  your  turn  to  pet  me  and  spoil  me,  which  I  shall 
allow  you  to  do,  quietly  submitting  to  be  waited  on  and  made 
much  of.  My  heart  beats  when  I  think  that  within  a  fort- 
night from  to-day  I  shall  be  with  you ;  that  is  my  unchanged 


A   BIRTHDAY.  273 

song,  and  you  must  let  me  sing  it  in  every  key,  for  I  have 
no  other.  .  .  .  To-morrow  is  my  fete ;  the  Queen  is  kind 
enough  to  give  a  breakfast.  You  will  think  of  me,  I  am 
sure,  and  Charles  will  drink  ray  health.  I  do  not  hope  for 
prizes,  and  I  must  not  reckon  upon  them,  but  I  feel  so  much 
pleasure  at  the  thought  of  seeing  the  dear  little  fellow  again 
that  I  care  little  about  them.  You  are  content  with  him ; 
he  is  happy  ;  all  is  well. 


CLXXIY. 

TO   M.    DE   KEMCSAT,    AT    TARIS. 

Aix,  Satot,  Auffust  12,  1810. 
.  .  .  Yesterday  was  my  fete.  Did  you  and  the  child 
remember  it  ?  It  was  quite  a  grand  day  here.  The  Queen 
gave  a  charming  breakfast.  We  went  to  her  house,  which  is 
outside  the  town  and  delightfully  situated ;  a  splendidly  served 
table  was  set  in  the  garden,  verses  were  read,  and  a  pretty 
little  proverb  played.  My  health  and  hers  were  drunk  with 
great  heartiness.  The  Empress  gave  me  a  very  pretty  neck- 
lace. Both  mother  and  daughter  were  as  charming  as  they 
could  be,  and  I  was  quite  embarrassed  and  moved  by  their 
kindness.  I  could  have  thanked  them  much  more  eloquent- 
ly if  my  heart  had  not  been  full  of  a  thousand  recollec- 
tions, but  all  this  revived  the  sentiments  of  the  occasion  to 
an  almost  painful  degree. 


CLXXY. 

to    M.    DE    llEMUSAT,    AT    RAMBOriLLET. 

Aix,  Savoy,  August  IS,  1810. 
I  CAN  not  make  up  a  packet  for  Paris  without  writing  to 
you.     I  do  not  want  to  commence  my  budget  by  my  letter  to 


274  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  RMUSAT. 

you,  because  I  know  what  would  then  happen  to  me  ;  I  should 
not  know  how  to  leave  off,  and  time  would  fail  me.  I  have 
therefore  written  the  three  little  letters  which  you  will  find 
inclosed,  and  am  now  allowing  myself  my  reward.  My 
friends  will  not  complain  ;  a  few  more  days  and  I  shall  have 
fulfilled  all  my  promises.  I  have  not  so  much  time  here  as 
might  be  supposed.  It  is  true  that  we  do  not  breakfast  until 
twelve  o'clock,  but  the  business  of  drinking  the  waters,  tak- 
ing the  baths,  and  dressing,  occupies  a  great  part  of  the  morn- 
ing. Then  we  remain  at  the  chateau  until  five  or  six  o'clock. 
There  we  talk,  we  work,  we  read  stupid  talcs,  to  which  no- 
body listens,  and  which  are  thrown  aside  half  finished.  The 
newspapers  and  our  letters  arrive,  the  gentlemen  sleep  for  a 
while,  and  at  six  o'clock  we  go  to  dress  for  a  carriage-drive 
until  eight.  You  may  easily  imagine  the  effect  which  is 
produced  in  a  miserable  town  like  this  by  the  caleche^  the 
horses,  and  the  elegant  equipage  of  the  Empress ;  and,  be- 
sides, her  toilettes  are  always  very  impressive.  The  water- 
drinkers  and  the  inhabitants  all  turn  out  to  see  us  pass,  and 
the  other  day  the  Empress  said  to  me,  "  Why,  we  are  like 
Cambaceres !  "  In  fact,  we  were  followed  by  quite  forty  lit- 
tle urchins.  At  eight  we  dine ;  after  dinner  come  cards  and 
music ;  so  we  go  on  until  eleven,  and  the  history  of  one  of 
our  days  is  the  history  of  all.  You  will  therefore  see  that  I 
have  only  one  hour  to  myself  before  I  begin  to  drink  the  wa- 
ters ;  when  I  wake  at  six,  the  time  when  I  am  in  the  water, 
during  which  I  read,  and  the  two  driving  hours  when  I  am 
not  well  enough  to  go  out. 

The  Empress  went  to  Geneva  the  day  before  yesterday, 
and  she  has  just  come  back.  She  traveled  all  night,  and  it 
is  now  six,  and  I  am  told  she  is  about  to  take  a  bath  and  go 
to  bed.  She  took  leave  of  me  in  the  kindest  way  before  this 
short  absence,  regretting  that  she  could  not  take  me  with  her. 
In  every  respect  it  is  impossible  to  be  more  amiable  than  she 
is,  and  I  am  very  happy,  notwithstanding  the  grief  of  being 
separated  from  you,  that  I  had  courage  and  strength  to  give 


6 A  YET Y  AND  SADNESS.  275 

her  this  proof  of  my  devotion.  If  she  had  been  in  happier 
circumstances,  I  should  liave  hesitated,  on  account  of  my 
health  ;  but  her  solitude  forbade  any  hesitation  on  my  part, 
and  up  to  the  present  time  I  certainly  do  not  repent,  for  the 
quiet  life  here  agrees  with  me.  You  Avill  believe  I  do  my 
best  to  enliven  it.  I  keep  my  regrets,  and  certain  secret 
causes  of  disquiet,  to  myself,  and  I  succeed  so  well  in  being 
one  person  in  the  salo)i  and  another  in  my  own  room,  that  yes- 
terday M.  de  Toupin  expressed  the  greatest  surprise,  on  hear- 
ing me  sigh,  that  so  gay  an  individual  as  myself  should  ever 
need  the  solace  of  sighing.  I  answered  him  that  I  was  not  so 
gay  as  he  thought.  He  maintained  the  contrary.  I  contin- 
ued the  discussion  smilingly,  and  nevertheless  I  might  say 
that  even  then  I  had  tears  in  my  heart,  for  talking  of  gayety, 
and  of  true  gayety,  recalled  to  me  that  painful  recollection, 
the  impress  of  which  I  have  never  lost.*^ 


CLXXYI. 


TO   M.    BE    REMrSAT,    AT    FONTAINEBLEATT. 

Paris,  October  13,  1810. 

Mon  ami,  I  beg  you  not  to  allow  it  to  be  doubted  for  a 
moment  that  you  wish  to  have  me  with  you,  and  to  arrange 
for  my  being  summoned  to  join  you  as  speedily  as  possible. 
Since  I  have  been  thought  of  at  all,  1  consider  that  it  would 
be  unbecoming  on  my  part  not  to  show  readiness  and  eager- 
ness ;  besides,  when  our  child  has  left  me,  I  shall  be  dull  and 
melancholy  in  this  big  place  all  by  myself,  whereas  at  Fon- 
tainebleau  I  shall  be  good  for  something,  and  I  want  you  to 

*  This  allusion  is  to  her  mother,  whose  cheerfulness  she  frequently  mentions. 

f  Mme.  dc  Uomusat  had  returned  to  Paris,  having  left  the  Empress  Josephine 
at  Aix  in  Savoy.  The  Emperor  and  his  Court  were  at  Fontaincblcau,  and  it  was 
now  a  question  of  presenting  the  Empress  Josephine's  ladies,  after  their  sojourn 
at  Aix,  to  the  Empress  Marie  Louise. 


276  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  REM  US  AT. 

want  nic.  Ask  the  Duchesse  de  Montebello  to  fix  my  per- 
sonal presentation  for  next  Sunday,  on  condition  that  I  may  re- 
main at  the  chateau  after  it,  for  I  am  not  strong  enough  to  o-o 
and  come  back  and  return  again.  If  the  thing  can  be  simph- 
fied  so  that  I  shall  only  be  named  to  the  Empress,  then  I  will 
not  come  at  all  until  Sunday  or  Monday  ;  otherwise  I  will  set 
out  on  Saturday,  if  I  am  not  countermanded,  provided  that  I 
have  a  room,  and  the  Grand  Marshal  has  given  his  sanction 
to  all  this.  I  will  write  more  at  length  to  you  this  evening. 
Answer  promptly,  because  if  I  am  not  wanted,  I  ought  to 
know  it  at  once.  Ahx  has  no  news  from  her  husband  ;  she 
worries  herself  about  this,  and  does  not  know  what  to  do.  I 
think  she  would  much  rather  take  the  road  to  Semur  than 
that  to  Fontainebleau.  Adieu.  I  boasted  too  much  of  my- 
self when  I  said  I  wanted  to  stay  here  quietly  without  you  ; 
I  am  already  weary  of  this  separation.  I  have  suffered  so 
much  this  year  that  I  assure  you  that  I  desire  very  sincerely 
not  to  pass  the  month  of  October  away  from  you. 


CLXXYII. 

TO   M.    DE   REMUSAT,    AT   FONTAINEBLEAIT. 

Paris,  Friday,  October,  ISIO. 

.  .  .  My  little  preparations  are  made ;  I  can  set  out  on 
Saturday,  if  I  am  to  be  presented  on  Sunday.  If  it  will  be 
enough  to  name  me  to  the  Empress,  which  I  should  like 
better,  I  shall  not  leave  Paris  until  next  Monday,  but  I  think 
it  would  not  do  to  wait  fifteen  days  longer.  Besides,  as  the 
season  advances,  my  health  becomes  worse ;  I  am  much  more 
sure  of  myself  in  October  than  I  shall  be  in  November,  and 
I  would  rather  be  at  the  Court  when  I  am  in  a  state  to  bear 
the  bustle  of  it.  I  think  I  shall  make  out  some  quiet  life 
for  myself  even  there,  in  the  midst  of  the  duties  to  be  done 
and  the  pleasures  to  be  enjoyed.     I  can  always  find  some 


ADVICE  TO    THE  EMPRESS.  277 

hours  for  rest,  which  I  will  employ  in  talking  with  you,  or 
in  my  own  occupations.  I  shall  take  my  books,  my  writing, 
and  my  work,  and,  if  I  am  pretty  well,  the  time  will  pass 
more  pleasantly  than  in  Paris,  where  I  should  be  so  long 
without  you.  I  am  bored  to  death  here,  and  go  to  bed  at 
half  past  eight.  I  brood  over  these  last  days  with  Charles, 
and  you  alone  can  console  me  for  being  parted  from  my 
son. 

He  is  in  very  good  health,  and  working  diligently.  I  do 
not  take  him  to  the  play,  lest  the  contrast  should  be  too 
strong  between  his  life  during  this  week  and  that  which 
awaits  him,  and  so,  not  to  give  him  pain,  I  do  not  go  myself. 
In  fact,  I  conduct  myself  very  well ;  I  talk  classes  and  school 
to  him,  and  reconcile  him  to  the  best  of  my  ability.  .  .  . 
Deschamps  has  just  left  me.  The  Empress  told  him  to  come 
and  see  me,  and  to  thank  me.  She  understood  that  all  my 
advice  was  dictated  by  sincere  affection.  She  was  about  to 
come  here  w^ien  my  letter  reached  lier  ;  ^  it  was  that  which 
prevented  her  return.  She  charged  Deschamps  to  ascertain 
from  me  whether  she  ought  positively  to  remain  here,  and  I 
believe  that  the  Queen  of  Holland  also  received  a  commission 
in  the  same  sense.  Her  mother's  plan  is  to  remain  at  Ge- 
neva, to  go  to  Milan,  to  return  to  Aix,  and  not  to  reappear 
at  Navarre  until  the  next  September.  Every  one  there  seems 
to  be  perplexed ;  I  am  asked  for  advice  on  all  sides,  but  I 
can  not  give  it.  Speak  to  the  Grand  Marshal.  1  do  not 
suppose,  however,  that  there  is  anything  for  me  to  do,  since 
the  Queen  is  here. 

*  The  Empress  passed  the  winter  at  Geneva,  following  in  this  the  advice  of 
my  grandmother,  which  was  given  by  order  of  the  Emperor. 


278  LETTERS   OF  MADAME  DE  E£:MUSAT. 

CLXXVIII. 

TO   M.    DE   KEMUSAT,    AT   FONTAINEBLEAU. 

Paris,  October,  1810. 
I  MUST  really  tell  you  how  well  I  have  been  managing 
since  yesterday,  inon  ami.  I  have  arranged  for  our  children 
to  perfection.  Yesterday  I  was  reflecting  with  regret  that 
to-day  Charles  must  return  to  school,  and  to  that  Muzine,* 
who  has  come  back  in  j^rctty  good  health,  but  more  strange 
and  irritable  than  ever.  The  children,  too,  were  anxious  on 
the  subject.  "  But  who,"  I  asked  Charles,  "  could  be  put  in 
his  place  over  you  % "  Charles  began  to  consider.  "  None 
of  the  professors,"  he  said,  "  live  at  the  school,  and  they  are 
too  well  paid  to  be  willing  to  undertake  what  we  want.  But 
there  is  a  master  in  the  place,  named  Leclerc,  who  would  be 
very  suitable."  On  hearing  this,  I  sent  for  Amedee  Pas- 
toret,  who  came  to  me  and  strongly  recommended  the  said 
Leclerc,  who  has  been  appointed  second  professor  in  I  know 
not  which  class ;  he  obtained  two  prizes  of  honor  and  twenty- 
five  prizes  in  one  year.  He  is  a  perfect  Greek  scholar,  never 
teaches  out  of  the  school,  is  devoted  to  poetry,  and  knows 
both  English  and  Italian.  Accompanied  by  Amedee,  I  pro- 
ceeded to  the  school,  and  sent  my  carriage  for  Leclerc.  He 
is  little,  very  shy,  and  absurdly  afraid  of  me.  He  informs 
me  that  M.  de  Wailly  had  asked  him  in  vain  that  very  morn- 
ing to  take  charge  of  young  Thibandeau,  but  that  he  knows 
our  children,  and  will  agree  to  everything  I  wish.  I  then 
asked  for  M.  de  Waillv,  but  he  was  out.  "We  consulted  with 
Mme.  Clieron ;  she  was  much  afraid  of  Muzine,  thought  he 
would  refuse  to  change  his  quarters,  and  overwhelmed  me 

*  My  father  retaiued  an  unfavorable  recollection  of  this  man's  harshness 
(Muzine  was  in  bad  health  and  not  quite  sane) ;  but  he  was  grateful  for  his  ex- 
cellent teaching  of  Latin  syntax,  and  attributed  to  him  a  great  deal  of  his  suc- 
cess at  the  University. 


LECLERC.  279 

with  words.  You  know  her  style.  I  begged  her  not  to  in- 
terfere in  any  way,  and  we  retired.  I  was  at  the  school 
this  morning  by  half  past  seven,  and  spoke  frankly  to  M. 
de  Wailly  about  Muzine.  He  agreed  with  me  on  many 
points,  and  perfectly  understands  that  I  am  determined  to 
have  done  with  him.  I  asked  for  some  one  to  take  his  place, 
and  the  first  name  mentioned  was  little  Leclerc's  !  *  He  an- 
swers for  his  moral  character,  his  attention,  his  capability  ;  1 
begged  him  to  arrange  everything,  and  to  bring  Helen  to 
dine  with  me  on  Thursday.  When  we  had  come  away, 
Amedee,  who  was  with  me,  wrote  to  Leclerc,  telling  liim  to 
appear  as  if  the  first  intimation  on  the  subject  had  reached 
him  from  M.  de  Wailly;  and  so  our  business  is  done,  the 
children  are  delighted,  and  I  must  own  I  am  extremely 
pleased  at  having  rid  them  of  Muzine.  If  you  can  come  on 
Thursday,  you  will  see  your  boj^s,  and  we  can  go  away  on 
Friday.  I  am  now  expecting  M.  Pourtales,  and  am  ready 
for  an  argument  with  him.  I  am  in  the  vein,  and  hope  all 
will  go  off  well.  I  have  heard  endless  stories  of  Muzine' s 
absurdities  this  morning,  which  prove  that  I  have  acted 
wisely.  I  hope  you  will  be  of  the  same  opinion.  Leclerc's 
moral  character  being  so  good,  I  think  his  youth  is  no  objec- 
tion ;  Charles  and  he  will  get  on  the  better.  He  likes  talk- 
ing, and  they  will  converse  ;  my  boy  tells  me,  moreover,  that 
he  has  seen  him  occasionally  in  the  school,  and  that  he  can 
be  severe  with  the  pupils  when  necessary.  I  am  charmed  at 
getting  rid  of  this  business,  for  it  was  a  great  trouble  to  me. 
My  poor  boy's  spirits  fail  in  proportion  as  the  day  approaches 
for  going  back  to  school ;  when  he  leaves  me  I  must  be  with 
you,  for  I  miss  him  very  much.     We  have  had  some  talks 

*  This  little  Leclerc  is  M.  Joseph  Victor  Leclerc,  who  died  in  1865.  He  was 
a  member  of  the  Academy  of  Inscriptions,  Dean  of  the  Faculty  of  Letters  in 
Paris,  and  author  of  some  celebrated  works  on  the  literary  history  of  France. 
He  was  for  a  long  time  my  father's  tutor,  and  was  always  one  of  his  most  val- 
ued friends.  From  his  school  days  almost  my  father  had  assisted  him  in  his 
translation  of  Cicero. 


280  LETTERS  OP  MADAME  DE  REMUSAT. 

together  since  we  have  been  alone,  and  we  agree  admirably. 
He  made  himself  most  agreeable  to  M.  Lebreton  yesterday, 
and  I  asked  him  whom  he  liked  best  of  all  my  friends.  He 
replied  that  it  was  Lebreton,  because  he  was  kindest  to  him. 
Lebreton  embraced  him  thereupon  with  tears  in  his  eyes. 
He  is  a  good  boy,  and  I  almost  worship  him. 


An  interval  of  nearly  three  months  occurs  between  this 
and  the  following  letters.  When  the  correspondence  is  re- 
sumed, Mme.  de  Herausat  is  again  in  waiting  on  the  Em^Jress 
Josephine  at  Navarre. 


CLXXIX. 

TO   M.    DE   EEMUSAT,    AT   PARIS. 

Navarre,  January,  1811.* 

I  AM  hoping  to  receive  a  line  from  you  to-day,  mon  ami. 
Alix  wrote  me  a  few  words  w^hich  have  done  me  good,  but 
only  you  or  your  secretary,  Mme.  de  Grasse,  can  entirely  re- 
lieve my  mind.  While  I  am  full  of  Thursday's  difficulties, 
you,  perhaps,  are  engrossed  with  a  thousand  other  cares ;  these 
are  the  delights  of  absence ! 

My  health  continues  tolerably  good,  wnth  the  exception 
of  slight  rheumatic  pains,  which  are  an  excuse  for  remainino- 

& 

*  The  year  1811  was  one  of  the  most  peaceful  of  the  Empire,  and  the  birth 
of  the  King  of  Rome  in  March  diminished  many  anxious  apprehensions.  Far- 
seeing  politicians,  however,  and  especially  M.  de  Talleyrand,  still  entertained 
serious  fears,  founded  on  the  Emperor's  character,  and,  without  actually  losing 
all  hope,  felt  neither  secure  nor  confident.  It  was  at  this  epoch  that  the  Due 
Decazes  said  to  Marechal  Marmont,  "We  are  lost,  depend  upon  it,  and  the  Em- 
peror is  mad."  During  this  year,  M.  and  Mme.  de  Remusat  were  separated  for  a 
short  time  only,  and  there  exist  but  a  few  letters  written  by  the  latter  from  the 
Chateau  de  Navarre  (Eure),  where  she  had  joined  the  Empress  Josephine.  I 
am  unable  to  fix  the  precise  date  of  these. 


THE  COUNTRY  IN   WINTER.  281 

by  the  fireside.  Our  present  abode  is  really  only  adapted 
for  royalty  :  it  is  only  by  lavish  precaution  that  we  can  escape 
the  rigors  of  the  season.  But  it  must  be  a  charming  place 
in  summer,  and  I,  who  have  veiy  little  curiosity,  nevertheless 
feel  a  great  wish  to  see  it  again  in  fine  weather.  Moreover, 
the  Empress  has  pleasant  surroundings ;  her  associates  here 
are  kind  and  nice,  like  herself,  and  the  town  of  Evreux  is 
not  without  its  charms.  The  greatest  is  its  bishop.  *  lie  is 
eighty  years  of  age,  agreeable,  lively,  well  informed,  and 
ready  to  talk  on  any  subject.  He  and  I  get  on  uncommonly 
well,  and  of  an  evening,  when  the  card-tables  are  filled  up, 
we  enjoy  a  little  talk,  which  ends  the  day  pleasantly.  I  do 
not  prolong  it  much ;  you  know  my  taste  for  going  to  bed 
early,  and  the  Empress,  who  likes  to  sit  up  late  over  her 
cards,  has  no  need  of  my  services,  and  leaves  me  at  full 
liberty.  Our  party  here  consists  of  the  Duchesse  d'Aren- 
berg,  Mmes.  d'Arberg,  do  Yielcastel,  d' Audenarde,  Ducrest, 
three  or  four  young  girls,  MM.  de  Turpin,  de  Monaco,  de 
Yielcastel,  and  Pourtales,  and  of  Deschamps,  who  is  admitted 
to  the  drawing-room,  and  does  very  well.  We  draw  or  work 
in  the  mornings  while  some  book  is  read  aloud ;  then  we  pay 
visits  to  each  other  until  dinner,  or  else  retire  to  our  own 
rooms  to  write,  as  I  am  now  writing  to  you.  At  six  o'clock 
we  separate  to  prepare  for  the  evening,  as  some  change  of 
dress  is  necessary,  and  then  there  are  cards  and  music.  You 
perceive  that  our  time  passes  pleasantly  enough,  and  I  should 
like  it  as  much  as  others  do,  were  it  not  for  the  anxieties  I 
packed  up  and  brought  with  me  in  my  traveling-bag.  From 
those  I  hope  your  letters  will  relieve  me  by  degrees.  I  con- 
trive to  devote  a  short  time  to  my  favorite  pursuit  of  read- 
ing, and  in  the  gardens  here  there  are  fountains  by  Lenotre, 
and  in  the  house  old  portraits  that  go  marvolously  well  witli 
the  books  I  brought  with  me.  I  think  I  have  already  told 
you,  mon  ami,  that  I  am  quite  reconciled  to  the  idea  of  pass- 

*  M.  Bourlicr,  Bishop  of  Evreux,  was  very  intimate  with  il.  dc  Talleyrand, 
and  stayed  at  his  house  whenever  he  came  to  Paris. 


282  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  R^MUSAT. 

ing  a  winter  in  the  country.  Your  cora^xanj  would  be  no 
objection,  for  I  feel  certain  beforehand  that  yon  %vould  like 
the  quiet  and  tranquillity,  and  I  think  that  in  bad  weather 
the  country  is  less  dreary  to  look  at  than  the  streets  of  Paris. 
There  is  always  some  sort  of  verdure  to  be  seen,  and  the  least 
ray  of  sunshine  gives  a  look  of  spring  to  the  meadows, 

I  have  had  some  sensible  conversations  with  the  Empress. 
She  seems  to  be  in  the  best  possible  frame  of  mind,  wishing 
only  for  quiet  and  the  means  of  gratifying  her  tastes,  which 
she  cultivates  that  they  may  take  the  place  of  her  memories. 
She  has  no  wish  to  reside  in  Paris,  but  she  is  strongly  bent 
on  Malmaison  for  the  cold  season,  and  there  would  certainly 
be  some  risk  in  repeating  every  winter  the  experiment  she  has 
made  with  tolerable  impunity  this  year.  Her  idea  is  to  leave 
this  place  in  the  spring,  to  return  again  for  the  summer,  to  go 
away  in  autumn,  and,  perhaps,  to  pass  next  winter  in  Italy. 
She  says  that,  had  she  known  anything  of  this  house  before- 
hand, she  would  not  have  accepted  it.  She  is  alarmed  at  the 
almost  inevitable  expenditure  in  which  it  will  involve  her. 
In  fact,  the  chateau  is  in  a  dilapidated  state,  and  is  a  very  in- 
convenient abode  ;  and,  however  undesirable  it  maybe  to  un- 
dertake building  operations  in  her  position,  one  can  not  rea- 
sonably endeavor  to  dissuade  her,  Avhen  one  sees  how  greatly 
she  is  inconvenienced  at  present.  It  is  really  good  of  her  to 
feel  so  much  pleasure  at  having  me  here,  and  when  I  see 
how  affectionate  and  caressing  she  is,  I  rejoice  at  the  slight 
sacrifice  of  my  vanity  that  I  thought  it  right  to  make  out  of 
gratitude  for  all  I  owe  her.  We  often  speak  of  the  Emperor ; 
she  likes  to  talk  of  him,  and  to  persuade  herself  that  he  still 
cares  for  her,  and  she  does  this  with  the  most  admirable  tact 
and  moderation  always.  3£on  ami,  a  woman's  heart  contains 
a  thousand  good  things,  and  on  several  points  we  shall  always 
be  superior  to  you. 


GOOD  SPIRITS.  283 


CLXXX. 

TO   M.    DE   REMUSAT,    AT    PARIS. 

Navarre,  Frida;/,  February,  ISll. 

I  HAD  vowed  that,  unless  I  received  a  letter  from  you  to- 
day, I  would  never  ^vrite  to  you  again ;  but  the  oath  was 
worth  no  more  than  that  of  a  drunkard  or  a  lover.  The  post 
came  in,  no  letter  for  me,  and  yet  I  am  at  my  writing-table, 
and  the  worst  of  it  is  you  owe  me  no  thanks,  for  it  is  to 
please  myself  that  I  am  there. 

I  am  in  the  best  of  spirits  this  morning.  The  weather  is 
splendid  ;  I  shall  find  winter  again  in  Paris.  This  is  a  spring 
day  ;  the  sun  is  shining,  the  meadows  are  green.  I  am  writ- 
ing, not  in  the  chimney-corner,  but  close  to  my  open  window, 
and  my  room  is  scented  with  hyacinths  and  lilacs.  I  am 
well,  and  if  you  were  with  me,  this  would  be  one  of  the 
happy  days  on  which,  although  there  is  not  one  single  addi- 
tional reason  for  tranquillity  of  spirit,  we  yet  find  ourselves 
inclined  to  trust  in  life,  and  to  enjoy  it  calmly,  without  either 
grieving  over  the  past  or  dreading  the  future.  This  pleas- 
ant frame  of  mind  is  not  usual  with  me,  and  can  hardly 
occur  in  town,  where  some  little  circumstance  is  constantly 
happening  to  upset  one,  be  it  only  an  unseasonable  visitor. 
As  I  was  telling  you  this  morning,  I  have  aged.  I  need  the 
sun  ;  he  warms  and  does  me  good,  and  if  he  always  shines  in 
Provence  as  he  is  sliining  to-day,  I  believe  I  shall  make 
friends  with  this  part  of  the  world. 

I  read  great  praise  of  "  Pirro "  *  in  the  papers ;  our 
friends  write  to  us  from  Paris  that  Mme.  Festa  and  Crivelli 

*Thc  date  of  the  first  performance  of  "Pirro,"  or  "Pjrrhus,"  an  Italian 
opera  by  Paesiello  that  Spontini  had  modernized  by  the  addition  of  recitatives, 
will  assist  us  to  determine  the  date  of  this  letter.  M.  Roj^nier,  who  has  been 
good  enoufih  to  supply  me  with  much  useful  information  for  the  notes  of  this 
work,  tells  me  that  it  took  place  on  January  30,  1811.  Spontini  conducted  the 
orchestra,  and  it  was  one  of  the  first  successes  under  his  managcmcut. 


284  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  REMUSAT. 

are  restoring  the  right  style  of  singing.  When  you  see 
Spontini,  congratiiLate  him  for  rae ;  I  -think  lie  must  be 
pleased,  and  that  he  is  now  on  the  right  track. 

I  drove  out  this  morning  in  an  open  carriage.  The 
country  here  is  very  pretty  and  gay.  I  should  like  to  come 
again  in  summer,  and  bring  you  with  me ;  for  to  enjoy  it 
properly  we  must  be  together,  and  your  presence  will  but 
enhance  the  beautiful  sunshine.  In  my  character  of  an  old 
woman,  I  amuse  myself  with  recollections  of  the  past.  It 
seems  to  me  that  when  I  was  young  there  were  oftener  such 
days  as  this,  and  I  recognize  the  same  atmosphere  that  I 
used  to  breathe  at  St.  Gratien.  3£on  ami,  how  happy  we 
were !  and  how  we  let  those  blessed  hours  slip  by !  Youth 
is  a  season  that  we  squander  away ;  we  Imrry  over  the  pres- 
ent moment  because  we  feel  so  certain  of  the  future.  But 
the  lapse  of  years  and  a  very  little  CcniH  life  soon  cure  us 
of  such  pleasant  improvidence,  and,  oh  !  how  sorrowfully 
proficient  I  have  grown  in  the  art  of  fearing  and  guarding 
not  only  the  passing  hours,  but  the  very  minutes ! 

Our  time  passes  here  in  a  strange  way ;  we  are  always 
together,  we  do  very  little,  there  is  hardly  any  conversation, 
and  yet  we  are  not  dull.  You  know  how  I  like  sameness ; 
it  accounts  for  the  rapid  flight  of  time,  for  the  same  occupa- 
tions return  at  the  accustomed  hour,  and  we  scarcely  know 
whether  it  is  yesterday  or  to-morrow.  Ah !  if  we  only  chose, 
life  need  be  neither  so  burdensome  nor  so  difficult  as  we 
make  it  for  ourselves ;  it  is  partly  our  own  fault.  Happiness 
and  repose  are  close  to  us ;  we  move  round  them,  we  see 
them,  and  for  the  most  part  fly  from  both.  All  this  is  not 
very  new,  but  you  must  listen  to  it,  because  I  feel  it  so 
strongly  that  I  must  needs  put  it  into  words.  Besides,  I 
know  to  whom  I  am  speaking. 

Would  you  like  to  learn  how  I  pass  my  day  ?  I  am  in 
the  humor  to  give  you  an  account  of  it.  I  wake  at  eight 
o'clock;  I  write  numberless  little  notes,  and  then  several 
pages;  I  rise  at  ten;  at  eleven  we  breakfast;  then  people 


GOOD  SPIRITS.  285 

begin  to  come  and  go.  I  sing,  I  play  clicss,  I  work  a  little ; 
if  it  is  fine,  we  go  out ;  at  two  o'clock  there  is  reading  aloud. 
If  the  book  is  some  stupid  story,  I  don't  listen,  but  think  of 
whom  T  please.  Do  you  understand  what  that  means  ?  At 
four  o'clock  we  are  free  again,  and  I  lie  lazily  back  in  an 
easy-chair,  and  read  my  "  Cardinal,"  who  is  very  amusing. 
At  six  o'clock  we  dress ;  then  come  dinner,  cards,  music,  and 
Mme.  Lazy  is  in  her  bed  by  half  past  ten.  "We  might  spend 
the  day  worse,  might  we  not  ?  Here  are  seven  women  living 
together  on  the  best  of  terms ;  only  one  of  us  is  really  pretty 
— we  allow  her  the  pleasure  of  knowing  it ;  some  of  us  are 
agreeable,  and,  accordingly,  have  the  privilege  of  pleasing. 
As  for  me,  I  have  leave  to  be  idle,  absent-minded  sometimes, 
and  even  sad  when  so  inclined  ;  in  fact,  we  enjoy  entire 
liberty.  The  men  of  our  party  are  polite  and  attentive  ; 
if  they  were  not,  we  should  not  complain  ;  but  they  are  at- 
tentive because  we  are  not  exacting,  and  the  mistress  of  the 
house  sets  us  an  example  of  sweet  temper  and  willingness  to 
be  pleased.  When  I  look  around  me,  I  feel  disposed  to  be- 
lieve that  the  human  species  is  composed  of  good  people ; 
but  if  I  look  farther  afield,  if  I  think  of  vou  and  of  some 
others,  I  think —  In  truth,  I  think  so  many  things  that  I 
will  not  say  another  word. 

I  am  called  ;  I  had  made  my  escape  from  the  drawing- 
room  to  come  and  talk  with  you ;  I  must  now  go  back. 
Adieu,  mon  ami  ;  by  summoning  me  away,  my  friends  de- 
prive you  of  the  pleasure  of  listening  to  a  good  deal  more 
frivolity.  I  was  in  the  humor  for  writing.  Adieu ;  but  it 
is  a  settled  thing  that  I  write  no  more  ;  it  is  a  sheer  folly  to 
do  nothing  but  think  of  the  absent. 


286  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  REMUS  AT. 


CLXXXI. 

TO    M.    DE    KEMUSAT,    AT    PARIS. 

Navarre,  Febi~uary,  ISll. 

You  must  receive  a  quantity  of  little  letters  from  me, 
tnon  am%  for  I  lose  no  opportunity  of  writing  to  you,  Mme. 
Gazzani  *  leaves  Navarre  to-morrow,  and  lias  promised  that 
this  shall  be  delivered  to  you  the  same  evening.  The  post 
would  be  much  slower.  I  wrote  to  you  this  morning,  saying 
you  had  better  send  again  to  Mme.  de  la  Rochefoucauld  for 
the  parcel  you  had  Bent  to  her  house,  for  she  is  ill,  and  may 
not  arrive  here  until  after  my  departure ;  thus  the  letters 
would  be  lost.  I  received  one  this  morning  from  Mme. 
Cheron.  She  is  enchanted  with  "  Pirro."  The  papers  are 
full  of  it,  and  so  are  all  the  letters  we  get ;  it  is,  in  fact,  a 
splendid  success,  and  I  should  like  you  to  have  some  share  in 
it.  But  to  deserve  well  and  to  be  unappreciated  is  the  usual 
thing  wnth  you.  I  will  not  say  that  success  lies  in  the  ex- 
actly opposite  direction,  but  I  begin  to  thinh  so.f 


CLXXXII. 

TO   M.    DE   REMUSAT,    AT   PARIS. 

Aix-la-Chapelle,  June  21,  1812.X 

This  place  is  really  too  melancholy,  mo7i  ami;  w^e  are 
getting  quite  dismal.     It  is  raining  in  torrents  ;  it  is  horribly 

*  Mme.  Gazzani,  the  wife  of  a  Receiver-General  in  Italy,  and  a  singularly 
beautiful  woman,  had  been  Reader  at  Court.  She  became  attached  to  the  Em- 
press Josephine,  and  remained  with  her  after  the  divorce. 

f  At  this  time  the  Court  was  becoming  more  and  more  intolerable,  owing  to 
the  Emperor's  gloomy  moroseness  and  ill  temper. 

X  Mme.  de  Remusat  had  gone  to  Aix-la-Chapelle  with  her  sister,  Mme.  de 
Nansouty,  and  her  second  son,  Albert,  in  the  beginning  of  June,  1812.     Her 


WFT    WEATHER.  287 

cold ;  we  have  a  wretched  coal-fire  that  covers  us  with 
smoke,  and  of  the  sun  not  a  glimpse !  This  bad  \Veather  has 
brought  back  my  rheumatic  pains,  and  I  am  suffering  a  little 
from  my  chest.  I  see  that  I  must  henceforth  take  the 
waters  much  more  cautiously.  They  have  retained  their 
strength,  while  I  have  become  weaker.  Albert,  unlike  his 
mother  and  his  aunt,  does  not  find  the  place  dull.  lie  will 
not  hear  of  returning  to  Paris.  I  can  not  think  what  the 
poor  child  finds  to  like,  for  he  is  very  lonely.  I  do  my  best 
to  amuse  him ;  but  when  I  am  tired  or  in  pain,  I  have  to 
send  him  away,  and  then  there  is  nothing  for  him  to  do.  If 
the  fine  weather  ever  comes,  and  he  can  go  out,  he  will  think 
Aix-la-Chapelle  a  paradise.  Alix  is  well ;  the  baths  are  cur- 
ing her  cold.  She  does  well  to  rely  on  her  own  strength, 
and  to  laugh  at  my  precautions. 

We  are  at  war  in  a  small  way  with  the  Prefect.  AVhen 
Mme.  Ney  and  Mme.  de  Lavalette  arrived  here,  he  called 
upon  them,  w^hile  he  has  not  even  inscribed  his  name  on  the 
visitor's  book  for  us.  We  were  waiting  to  receive  his  card 
before  calling  on  his  wife,  but  we  will  not  make  all  the  ad- 
vances ;  he  has  just  invited  us  to  spend  the  evening  at  his 
house  to  morrow.  Alix  thinks  we  ought  not  to  go.  I  will 
do  as  she  likes ;  I  leave  her  to  regulate  the  ceremonies.  I 
care  little,  as  you  know,  for  new  acquaintances,  for  these 
new  ones,  like  all  the  rest,  could  not  alter  the  fact  of  your 
absence.* 

To-day  is  Sunday,  and  Charles  is  with  you.  I  hope  this 
deluge  of  rain  is  not  universal,  and  that  he  will  have  been 

ideas  of  medicine,  like  those  of  most  persons  of  her  time,  were  altogether  errone- 
ous, and,  on  a  careful  perusal  of  her  letters,  it  seems  probable  that  tlie  waters 
i*he  took  every  year,  at  a  cost  of  great  fatigue,  regret,  and  suffering,  both  men- 
tal and  bodily,  did  her  harm.  Her  correspondence  on  the  subject  is  full  of  de- 
tails and  complaints  not  suitable  for  publication.  This  will  explain  why  her 
letters  at  this  period  are  fewer  in  number  and  shorter  than  at  the  beginning. 

*  M.  de  Lameth  was  no  longer  Prefect  of  the  Department  of  Roiir ;  he  had 
been  succeeded  by  the  Uaron  de  Ladouccttc,  who  was  born  in  1770,  and  died  in 
1848.     He  was  a  deputy  in  1834. 


288  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  REMUSAT. 

able  to  take  his  ride ;  I  prayed  that  he  might  not  break  his 
neck.  Tell  him,  when  next  you  see  him,  that  my  second 
pleasure  consists  of  thinking  of  him ;  you  and  he  together 
may  guess  what  is  my  first,  if  you  can. 

In  sober  truth,  mon  ami,  now  that  I  have  told  you  about 
the  rain,  I  hardly  know  what  else  to  say.  Our  days  are 
somewhat  desultory.  Alix  comes  and  goes ;  Albert  wants 
me  for  his  playfellow,  and  the  poor  child  puts  on  such  a 
melancholy  look  when  I  send  him  away  that  I  devote  myself 
willingly  to  his  pleasure,  feeling  quite  certain  I  shall  succeed 
in  securing  that,  whereas  I  am  gravely  in  doubt  as  to  my 
own.  The  slight  pain  in  the  chest,  from  which  I  have  been 
suffering  the  last  two  days,  prevents  me  from  writing  or 
working  for  any  length  of  time.  Reading  is  my  only  re- 
source, and  I  devour  Mademoiselle^ s  *  gossip.  It  amuses  me 
because  she  mentions  all  my  friends,  but  she  terribly  traves- 
ties them.  In  reality  she  understood  little  of  what  she  re- 
lates. I  am  far  better  acquainted  than  she  with  all  she  pro- 
fesses to  have  seen,  and  I  often  feel  inclined  to  exclaim, 
"  Mademoiselle,  with  all  due  respect  to  your  Royal  Highness, 
you  are  entirely  mistaken.  The  persons  you  mention  never 
thought  of  the  things  you  attribute  to  them,  and  I  can  an- 
swer for  it  they  cared  not  at  all  for  your  opinion."  To  keep 
myself  in  practice,  I  amused  myself  in  thus  arguing  with 
her ;  but  the  good  Princess  is  very  obstinate,  and  I  do  not 
think  I  shall  succeed  in  convincing  her. 

I  saw  the  mayor  of  this  town  yesterday.  From  what  he 
tells  me,  my  friend  Lametli  seems  to  be  greatly  regretted ; 
and,  for  my  own  j)art,  it  is  a  disappointment  not  to  find  him 
here.  The  Constituent  Assembly  was  a  never-failing  subject 
that  we  had  by  no  means  exhausted.  People  always  like  to 
talk  of  the  times  when  they  were  somebody,  were  it  even 
for  evil,  and  both  vanity  and  conscience  urge  them  to  alter- 

*  Mile,  de  Montponsier,  or  La  Grande  Mademoiselle,  who  died  in  1693,  and 
whose  "  Memoirs"  were  first  published  in  1729.  My  grandmother  was  enthusi- 
astic about  Louis  XIV.  and  his  times. 


QUEEN  HORTENSE.  2S9 

nately  boasting  of  tlicir  deeds  or  endeavoring  to  justify  them. 
But  in  default  of  tliis  subject  we  harp  on  Mr.  Frizell's  travels 
in  Italy.*  Sometimes,  when  he  describes  the  beautiful  Ital- 
ian skies  or  splendid  buildings,  I  find  myself  wishing  to  go 
there  some  day ;  then  my  thoughts  revert  to  you  and  Charles, 
and  I  make  plans  that  I  shall  never  carry  out.  Ahx  is  more 
consistent,  and  declares  that  the  buildings  of  the  Eue  de 
Lille  are  quite  enough  for  her.  But,  after  all,  the  happiness 
of  being  with  you  is  sufiicient  for  me,  and  should  fill  my 
whole  life  ;  and  were  my  health  good — I  say  it  with  due  re- 
spect to  all  the  circumstances  and  disappointments  of  life — I 
should  have  been  too  happy  for  this  sublunary  world.  All, 
then,  is  well,  since  you  pardon  my  want  of  health,  and  still 
love  me  in  spite  of  my  complainings. 


CLXXXIII. 


TO   M.    DE   KEMUSAT,    AT   PAEI3. 

Aix-la-Chapelle,  June  23,  1S12. 

...  The  Queen  f  is  suffering  from  the  effects  of  the 
waters,  and  much  depressed  by  the  bad  weather.  She 
regrets  Savoy,  and  thinks  that  in  this  rain  St.  Leu  would 
be  jileasanter  than  the  streets  here.  As  you  may  imagine, 
we  all  sing  pretty  nmch  in  the  same  key,  and  we  end  our 
evenings  with  her,  with  elegies  on  absence.  We  pass  our 
day  in  our  lodgings.  This  morning,  on  the  sun's  conde- 
scending to  show  himself,  we  went  out,  but  were  driven 
back  by  a  storm. 

*  Mr.  Frizcll  was  one  of  the  few  Englishmen  who  remained  in  Fiance  during 
the  war.'  lie  was  a  friend  of  M.  de  Chateaubriand's,  and  had  written  a  pam- 
phlet on  the  English  Constitution. 

f  Queen  Hortense  was  at  Aix-la-Chapelle. 


>  Mr.  Frizell  was  an  Iri.shman. — Translators. 

13 


290  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  BE  R&MUSAT. 

Well,  then,  inon  ami,  do  not  go  to  Lafitte,*  since  your 
engagements  will  not  allow  of  it.  I  am  vexed  with  Spon- 
tini  for  giving  you  so  much  trouble.  This  is  an  opportunity 
for  showing  firmness,  and  treating  him  with  some  severity, 
so  that  the  others  may  see  you  always  act  with  justice.  II3 
needs  a  good  lesson ;  don't  be  afraid  of  letting  him  have  it. 
Financial  reasons  will  prevent  your  even  coming  here ;  and 
yet  health  is  before  everytluHg.  Think  of  the  winter ;  think 
of  me.  I  have  just  strength  enough  to  endure  my  own  ills ; 
yours  would  be  more  than  I  could  bear.  .  .  . 


CLXXXIY 


TO   M.    DE    EEMUSAT,    AT   PAKIS. 

Aix-la-Chapelle,  Monday,  June  29, 1812. 

It  is  still  raining,  the  weather  is  cold,  and  I  have  a  coal- 
fire  which  stifles  while  it  warms  me.  One  of  the  delights  of 
Paris  will  be  to  see  a  log  of  firewood ;  I  shall  also  salute  the 
sun,  for  he  remains  apparently  on  my  terrace.  .  .  . 

I  went  to  the  theatre  yesterday  evening.  Both  Albert 
and  I  enjoyed  ourselves  very  much ;  "  La  Petite  Ville  "  was 
the  play,  and  was  very  fairly  acted.  There  was  also  a 
vaudeville,  in  which  I  recognized  several  of  Charles's  airs. 
This  was  a  great  pleasure.  By-the-by,  I  hope  he  will  write 
some  verses  on  M.  Deghen's  balloons,t  and  on  the  difficulty 
of  directing  one's  course  in  this  lower  earth.  I  fancy  some- 
thing might  be  made  of  it. 

By  going  to  the  theatre,  we  missed  Mme.  de  Salm's  :j: 

*  The  estate  of  Lafitte  (Hautc-Garonne)  had  been  repurchased  by  my  grand- 
father from  the  heirs  of  M.  Bastard,  in  1809,  and  our  family  thought  of  settling 
there. 

f  Deghen  had  excited  a  momentary  interest  in  Paris  by  announcing  a  novel 
aerostatic  experiment.     He  proposed  to  support  himself  in  the  air  by  wings. 

\  Constance  de  Theis,  born  in  IVCV,  was  the  daughter  of  a  distinguished 
man  of  letters,  and  had  shown  from  early  youth  a  poetical  turn.     At  eighteen 


'TIPELETy  291 

(Pipclet)  i:)resentation  at  the  Queen's.  Slie  brought  with 
her  an  album  in  two  volumes,  full  of  verses  by  Lemercier, 
Chenier,  Lalande,  and  Co.  She  recited  some  of  her  own. 
She  installed  herself  in  the  Queen's  arm-chair,  and  displa}X'd 
all  her  possessions.  It  seems  to  have  been  a  most  diverting 
scene,  and  I  regret  very  much  that  I  was  not  present.  Mr. 
Frizell  gave  us  a  capital  account  of  the  evening.  By-the-by, 
I  think  I  am  beginning  to  like  him  extremely.  We  were 
speaking  of  the  men  of  our  circle  this  evening,  and  passing 
them  in  review.  "  But  you  do  not  mention,"  said  he,  "  the 
cleverest  man  of  all,  who  is  no  other  than  the  master  of  the 
house.  To  begin  with,  he  is  more  highly  informed  than  any 
of  the  others ;  in  the  next  place,  he  is  pleasant,  unaffected, 
perfectly  free  from  self-conceit,  and  has  something  worth 
hearing  to  say  on  every  subject."  He  has  won  my  heart,  of 
course ;  as  if  there  were  any  merit  in  appreciating  you ! 
But  in  this  world  we  naturally  esteem  people  who  say  what 
is  true.  His  words  roused  me ;  I  spoke  of  you.  I  said  that 
even  they  did  not  know  you  thoroughly ;  that  life  with  you 
was  like  the  cloudless  sky  of  Nice.  I  like  this  comparison ; 
it  is  so  time  ;  and  Mr.  Frizell,  who  loves  the  south,  approved 
of  what  I  said. 

I  am  still  keeping  company  with  La  Grande  Mademoh- 
selle.  She  says  things  to  me  about  Louis  XIY.  that  I  note 
carefully.  My  little  book  will  be  charming  ;  I  shall  make  it 
my  album ;  quite  equal  to  that  of  the  Comtesse  de  Salm. 
3Iademoiselle  is  much  less  commonplace  when  she  comes  to 
M.  de  Lauzun.  Women  can  always  write  well  on  the  sub- 
ject of  love,  and  I  have  a  w^eakness  for  that  sentiment  which 
makes  me  like  her  so  soon  as  she  falls  in  love.     It  is  a  great 

she  wrote  the  wcll-knowu  novel,  "Bouton  de  Rose."  She  married  if.  Pipclet 
de  Leury  in  1789,  and  a  few  years  later  an  opera  by  her,  entitled  "Sappho," 
was  produced  on  the  stage  with  great  success ;  then  a  drama  in  verse,  called 
"Cauiillc,"  which  failed  com[)letcly.  In  1802  she  married  Prince  de  Salm-Dyck. 
Her  works  were  collected  in  1842,  and  published  iu  lour  volumes  Svo.  She 
died  in  184."). 


292  LETTERS   OF  MADAME  DE  RblMUSAT. 

jiity  you  have  never  been  able  to  insjnre  me  in  any  way ; 
perhaps  I  should  have  been  a  superior  person  had  my  lot 
been  different !  But,  jesting  a2)art,  I  really  believe  that  a 
serious  passion,  that  lacks  the  merit,  or  the  misfortune,  of 
being  legitimate,  greatly  develops  a  woman's  qualities.  If 
Mme.  de  Grasse  were  reading  this,  she  would  say,  "  Here  is 
another  of  her  queer  ideas,  suddenly  making  its  appearance ; 
we  must  let  her  talk."  And  yet,  when  one  has  never  met 
with  contradiction,  how  can  one  know  one's  deserts  ?  United 
to  you,  vion  ami,  one  is  simply  happy,  without  deserving  it, 
without  effort,  and  consequently  without  meriting  a  reward 
in  the  next  world.  It  is  for  this  reason  that  I  was  declaring 
a  little  while  ago  to  my  sister  that  I  am  not  what  is  called  a 
worthy  looman ;  she  nearly  beat  me!  You  know  it  has 
been  my  conviction  for  a  long  time  that  I  owe  everything  to 
you.  And,  as  a  crowning  misfortune,  I  had  to  become  the 
mother  of  Charles !  Are  people  to  conclude  from  this  that 
I  am  a  good  mother  ?  And  then  comes  Mme.  de  Grasse ! 
Is  there  much  merit  in  loving  you  all  ?  In  good  sooth,  man 
ami,  notwithstanding  my  ill  health  and  all  the  rest  of  it,  I 
am  a  terribly  spoilt  person. 


CLXXXV. 


TO   M.    DE   REMUSAT,    AT    PAEIS. 


Aix-la-Chapelle,  July  3,  1812. 

I  AWAKE,  I  look  out  of  wiudow,  I  see  the  pouring  rain,  I 
heave  a  deep  sigh,  and  sink  back  in  my  bed,  but  sleep  will 
not  come  again  to  me.  Then  I  draw  up  my  table  to  write 
to  you,  and  having  re-read  the  dear  letter  I  received  yester- 
day, I  begin.  How  good  you  are  to  write  to  me  as  you  do ! 
Your  words  sink  sweetly  into  my  heart,  and  fill  the  long 
hours  of  absence  with  thousands  of  happy  thoughts  !     Ah  ! 


RAIN.  293 

I  say  it  again  with  gratitude,  I  liave  no  right  to  coniphiin  of 
anything  whatsoever. 

I  tliink  it  has  never  rained  so  much  as  during  the  last 
three  days.  Before  this  there  used  to  be  a  few  moments  of 
sunshine ;  but  now  there  is  a  leaden  sky  from  seven  in  the 
morning  until  eleven  at  night,  and  it  is  as  cold  as  in  Novem- 
ber. I  think  the  waters  must  be  bad  with  all  this  rain.  The 
reservoirs  are  not  in  good  order,  nor  properly  roofed ;  the 
rain  gets  through  and  lowers  the  temperature  very  much. 
Albert  is  well,  and  behaves  well  about  the  shower-bath.  He 
does  not  like  it  yet,  but  resigns  himself ;  I  continue  to  be 
pleased  with  him.  He  plays  every  morning  with  the  little 
Princes.  As  the  eldest  is  veiy  fond  of  being  coachman,  he 
gets  on  capitally  with  Albert,  who  manages  the  Monseigneur 
very  well  now,  and  who  is  happy  and  seems  to  improve  a 
little  with  all  these  games.  The  day  before  yesterday  he 
thought  proper  to  strike  Prince  Louis,*  who  was  disputing 
with  him ;  but  the  Queen  would  not  allow  me  to  reprove 
Albert,  as  her  son  was  in  the  wrong.  Albert  looked  at  me 
to  see  what  I  thought ;  and  on  our  return  home  I  gave  him 
a  little  lesson  which  he  understood. 

There  are  some  new  arrivals  here:  Mme.  de  Bartillac, 
who  has  left  her  card  for  me  ;  Alix  knows  her  a  little,  but  I 
have  not  seen  her  yet.     Mme.  Eappf  and  her  sister,  who, 

*  The  following  note  by  my  father  relating  to  this  incident  may  be  of  some 
historical  interest :  "  I  remember  that  at  the  time  Louis  Bonaparte  was  a  candi- 
date for  the  Presidency  in  1843,  I  was  dining  one  Sunday  with  Odillon  Barrot  at 
Bougival,  and  he  arrived  there,  as  if  unexpectedly,  at  the  beginning  of  dinner, 
with  his  cousin,  Jerome's  son,  and  Abbatucci.  Naturally,  he  took  my  place 
next  to  Mme.  Barrot,  and  sat  between  her  and  me.  I  was  not  pleased  at  his 
arrival,  and  being,  besides,  no  partisan  of  his,  I  restricted  myself  to  a  cold  polite- 
ness, lie  wished  for  something  more,  and  told  me  I  was  one  of  his  oldest  ac- 
quaintances in  France,  and  that  he  had  seen  me  at  Aix-la-ChapcUo.  I  replied 
that  it  was  not  I,  but  my  brother.  He  persisted,  so  did  I ;  and  I  think  he  was 
inclined  to  believe  this  was  a  stratagem  of  mine  to  avoid  any  excuse  for  greater 
intimacy.     The  incident  caused  a  certain  stiffness  between  us  during  dinner." 

f  General  Rapp,  Aide-dc-Camp  to  the  Emperor,  married  first  Mile.  Vaulcr- 
berghe. 


294  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  EEMUSA  T. 

unfortunately  for  tlicm,  are  living  opi^osite  lis,  and  who 
wanted  to  be  incognito;  they  are  always  hiding  behind 
their  cnrtains,  and  will  lead  a  dull  life  of  it  here ;  and  M. 
de  L ,  who  has  already  visited  the  trijoot,  where  he  is  re- 
ceived with  great  ceremony.  The  banker  gives  him  up  his 
arm-chair,  every  one  rises  to  do  him  honor ;  in  fact,  he  has 
become  an  institution.  But  the  great  attraction  of  all  is 
Mme.  de  Salm.  Unfortunately,  she  is  only  a  bird  of  pas- 
sage, for  I  confess  she  would  entertain  me  immensely.  I 
met  her  at  the  Queen's  the  day  before  yesterday.  She  is 
certainly  veiy  clever,  and  so  full  of  self-confidence,  so  eager 
to  recite  her  own  verses,  her  egotism  is  so  unremitting,  and 
yet  so  odd,  that  she  is  most  amusing.  She  is  connected  with 
all  the  second-rate  people  of  the  Institute,  and  is  for  ever 
quoting  Lemercier,  Arnaud,  Laya,  etc.  She  never  stirs 
without  her  album  ;  in  the  very  middle  of  the  drawing-room 
she  will  stand  and  sing  verses  of  her  own  composition,  and 
yet  she  seems  to  be  a  good  woman,  and  very  unaffected.  All 
this  rather  tires  the  Queen,  who  is  so  sweet  and  simple  in 
her  ways ;  but  I,  who  am  not  obliged  to  join  in  the  conver- 
sation, am  greatly  diverted  by  it,  and  I  own  that  I  shall  re- 
gret this  Sappho. 

I  can  not  tell  you  how  charming  I  think  the  Queen. 
Hers  is  really  an  angelic  disposition,  and  she  is  quite  a  differ- 
ent creature  from  what  she  is  generally  supposed.  Mr.  Fri- 
zell,  who  had  come  here  with  an  unfavorable  impression  of 
her,  is  quite  fascinated.  She  is  so  true,  so  pure-minded,  so 
completely  ignorant  of  evil ;  there  is  so  sweet  a  melancholy 
about  her,  and  so  great  a  resignation  as  to  what  the  future 
may  bring  forth,  that  it  is  impossible  not  to  feel  very  strong- 
ly for  her.  Her  health  is  not  bad  ;  she  dislikes  this  continual 
rain  because  she  is  fond  of  walking ;  she  reads  a  good  deal, 
and  appears  anxious  to  repair  the  deficiencies  of  her  educa- 
tion in  certain  respects.  She  studies  closely  with  her  chil- 
dren's tutor.  Since  the  trouble  she  takes  amuses  her,  it  is 
well  she  should  take  it ;  but  I  should  like  to  see  her  studies 


PRINCE  NAPOLEON.  205 

directed  by  some  wiser  head,  Tlierc  comes  a  time  when  one 
should  learn  in  order  rather  to  think  than  to  know,  and  his- 
tory should  not  be  taught  at  twenty-five  as  it  is  at  ten  years 
of  age. 

Adieu,  cher  ami  /  I  am  grateful  to  you  and  to  my  son 
for  being  quite  well.  I  hope  we  shall  all  be  well  this  next 
August.  If  Mme.  de  Yintimille  will  lend  you  a  little  col- 
lection of  Charles's  verses,  and  you  send  it  me  through  M. 
de  Lavalette,  I  would  show  it  to  the  Queen,  who  wishes  to 
see  it ;  or  Charles  might  send  me  his  book  of  manuscripts, 
and  I  would  bring  it  back  to  him.  But  it  must  be  very  care- 
fully forwarded. 

CLXXXVI. 

TO    M.    DE   KEMUSzlT,    AT    PARIS. 

Aix-LA-CnAPELLE,  July  8,  1812. 

We  have  been  rather  anxious  since  yesterday  about 
Prince  Napoleon.  lie  got  up  in  the  morning  feeling  very 
feverish  and  sick.  The  fever  is  on  him  still.  M,  de  la  Serre 
does  not  think  it  is  of  a  serious  nature ;  he  susj^ects  some 
eruptive  malady,  but  is  not  certain  as  yet.  The  poor  Queen 
is  in  a  distressing  state  of  anxiety.  Everybody  tries  to  com- 
fort her,  but  mothers  are  not  easily  comforted.  In  any  case, 
I  shall  keep  Albert  away  from  the  house,  and  I  shall  not  go 
into  the  sick-room.  Say  nothing  about  this  in  Paris,  on  ac- 
count of  the  Empress  Josephine.  Her  daughter  might  not 
wish  her  to  hear  of  it  so  soon ;  besides,  it  may  be  nothing, 
and  in  that  case  it  will  be  better  not  to  have  mentioned  it. 
The  Queen's  habitual  ill  luck  makes  one  more  alarmed  at 
this  illness  of  her  son's,  for,  after  all,  it  is  but  what  many 
other  children  go  through  safely ;  but  some  human  beings 
seem  born  to  misfortune  only,  and  she  appears  to  be  one  of 
these.     May  my  fears  prove  erroneous  ! 

I  wrote  yesterday  to  Mme.  de  Grasse,  who  complains  of 


2i)0  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  REMUSAT. 

us  in  her  last  letter.  You  would  be  frightened  if  I  were  to 
send  you  a  list  of  mj  letters  since  we  liave  been  here.  I  re- 
ceive a  great  number,  which  I  am  obliged  to  answer.  I  find 
this  fatiguing,  and,  between  ourselves,  a  great  labor.  I 
liked  writing  when  I  was  younger,  but  now  I  only  care  to 
correspond  with  you  and  two  or  three  others,  and,  next  to 
that,  to  write  for  myself  alone.  In  early  youth  one  likes  to 
expand,  if  I  may  make  use  of  the  expression,  on  every  side ; 
but  afterward  one  becomes  more  reserved,  and  indifferent  to 
pleasing  those  who  are  not  the  very  first  in  our  affections. 
This  is  what  I  experience.  Every  day  I  care  less  for  the 
world.  On  one  side  are  my  friends  ;  on  the  other  is  a  great 
gulf  of  emptiness,  with  which  I  concern  myself  less  and  less. 
The  night  before  last  I  went  to  the  theatre  and  shed  half 
a  dozen  tears  over  "  Omasis."  *  It  was  not  bad  for  provin- 
cial actors,  as  Mme.  de  Sevigne  would  say.  In  that  dark 
and  smoky  theatre,  full  of  fat  Germans  smelling  of  tobacco, 

Mme.  S appeared  in  the  loveliest  toilette,  and  dis23layed 

all  the  elegance  customary  at  a  first  night  at  the  Opera.  I 
was  greatly  amused  by  it.  However,  there  is  nothing  like 
bankruptcy  for  having  everything  nice  about  one. 


CLXXXYII. 

TO   M.    DE   REMUSAT,    AT   PARIS. 

Aix-la-Chapelle,  July  16,  1S12. 

I  ALw^vYs  said  you  were  a  bad  husband,  and  every  day 
I  discover  fresh  reasons  for  supporting  my  theory  with  all 
the  eloquence  I  possess.  I  was  at  Mme.  de  Lavalette's  f 
yesterday.     She  had  just  got  ber  letters,  and  I  was  congratu- 

*  "  Omasis,"  or  "  Joseph  en  lEgypte,"  a  tragedy  by  Baour-Lormian,  was  per- 
formed for  the  first  time  in  1806. 

f  This  Mme.  de  Lavalette  (Mile.  Tascher)  is  the  same  individual  who  distin- 
f^ished  herself  by  her  wifely  devotion  when  her  husband  was  condemned  to 
death  under  the  Restoration. 


MME.   DE  LAVALETTE.  297 

lating  her  on  receiving  one  from  M.  de  Lavalette.  She  told 
nie  that  whenever  they  are  separated  he  invariably  writes 
to  her  every  day,  and  that  in  the  course  of  several  years  he 
has  never  failed  even  once.  Yon  perceive,  monsieur,  that 
on  this  point  he  is  much  more  of  a  paragon  than  you,  and 
on  other  points — well,  I  have  my  own  opinion  !  I  must 
resign  myself,  however ;  for  "  where  the  goat  is  tied,  there 
it  must  browse."  .  .  . 

Now  as  to  our  leaving  this  place.  I  think  we  shall  start 
on  the  25th — that  is,  on  Saturday  week.  We  have  done  well 
to  delay  a  little,  for  I  am  wonderfully  better ;  the  waters 
are  warmer  because  of  the  fine  weather,  and  by  taking  them 
cautiously  they  no  longer  disagree  with  me.  So  we  have 
not  come  here  for  nothing,  after  all. 

My  grumbling  over  your  negligence  as  a  correspondent 
is  all  the  more  gracious  that  a  thick  packet  of  yours  has  just 
been  delivered  to  me.  I  shall  now  leave  off  and  read  it. 
Wait  a  moment.  Ah  !  ah  !  in  your  present  humor  Heaven 
knows  how  you  will  take  the  false  news  of  our  return,  and 
yet  I  do  not  think  that  we  were  wrong  in  delaying  it.  Your 
wish  to  see  us  again  sets  you  against  the  waters  unless  they 
do  me  very  great  good.  Ah !  mon  ami,  what  do  you  expect 
will  ever  do  me  great  good,  unless  it  be  the  pleasure  of  see- 
ing you,  which  really  and  truly  does  influence  my  health  ? 

Aix-la-Chapelle  is  beginning  to  be  quite  brilliant.  We 
shall  be  leaving  it  at  its  best,  and,  nevertheless,  without 
regret.  Numerous  visitors  are  arriving,  but  society  entails 
a  certain  amount  of  ceremony.  We  are  living  very  quietly. 
I  have  not  seen  the  Queen  for  a  week,  and  from  excess  of 
pnidence  I  do  not  even  go  to  the  Marechale's.*  In  the 
morning  we  go  out,  we  write,  and  so  on  until  six  o'clock. 
AVe  retire  early,  and  our  evenings  are  filled  up  with  needle- 
work and  one  or  two  visits.  Between  ourselves,  I  believe 
that  only  for  me,  Alix  would  lead  a  different  kind  of  life. 

*  JImo.  Ncj  (Mile.  Auguic)  had  been  a  schoolfellow  of  Queen  Ilortensc  at 
Mme.  Campan's. 


298  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  REMUSAT. 

I  do  not  interfere  with  her,  however,  but  as  I  stay  at  home, 
she  stays.  I  am  not  dull  in  her  society,  but  I  think  she  is 
rather  dull  in  mine.  She  loves  me  very  much,  but  I  am 
not  altogether  suited  to  her.  Keep  all  this  to  yourself,  and 
if  you  write  again  after  receiving  this  letter,  say  nothing 
about  it.  Adieu,  mon  ami ;  I  must  go  to  dinner.  I  have 
written  every  day  since  Thursday,  and,  if  Albert  will  let  me, 
I  shall  keep  up  this  good  habit  until  our  departure.  I  have 
received  the  money  and  the  verses ;  *  a  thousand  thanks  for 
them. 

An  interval  of  eleven  months  occurs  here. 

*  My  father's  verses  have  been  alluded  to  in  these  letters  several  times.  A 
taste  for  singing  and  composing  songs,  which  he  had  shown  from  earliest  child- 
hood, had  been  greatly  cultivated  at  his  school,  where  it  was  shared  by  several 
schoolfellows  older  than  himself,  viz.,  Amedee  Pastoret,  Scribe,  Xaudet,  and 
others.  lie  kept  only  a  few  of  his  compositions  at  that  age,  although  he  often 
thought  of  publishing  a  collection  of  those  written  at  a  later  date,  after  he  had 
left  school.  In  order  to  prove,  however,  that  what  is  said  in  these  letters  is  not 
entirely  the  self-deception  of  a  tender  mother,  I  think  it  well  to  quote  one  of 
the  poems  in  question ;  not  one  of  those  that  he  sent  to  Aix-la-Chapelle,  but 
one  of  the  earliest  that  he  did  not  destroy,  and  which  is  dated  November,  1813. 
He  was  then  sixteen,  and  was  studying  philosophy  at  the  Lycee  Napoleon, 
which  subsequently  became  the  College  Henri  IV. 

LE  RjfiVE,   OU  MON  HOROSCOPE. 
Air~"  Vaudeville  du  Jaloux  malade." 

"  ?"-^\^^"'!j  ^'*  "°  ^'^'^  <^«s  so°Ses  "  Or,  voiU  que  mon  bon  g6nie. 

Qui  s  eveille  toutes  les  nuits,  Un  matin,  se  met  dans  I'esprit 

M  qui,  par  de  vagues  mensonges,  De  m'envover  en  cette  vie  ; 

Du  sorameil  charme  les  ennuis.  II  ouvre  son  livre,  et  me  dit : 

Des  que  je  ferme  la  paupi&re,  '  Mince  effet  d'une  grande  cause, 

II  yient  depavots  couronne :  Demain,  sans  faute,  tu  naitras, 

l^race  d  lui,  j  ai,  la  nuit  derniJ>re,  Mais,  avant  d'etre  quclque  chose, 

Eeve  que  je  n'etais  pas  ne.     (Bi,.)  Viens  savoir  ce  que  tu  seras. 

•'  Je  n'ai  pas  besoin  de  vous  dire  "  '  fitre  futur,  c'est  une  femme 

tomment  on  est  quand  on  n'est  pas ;  Qui  te  portera  dans  son  sein  ; 

Dans  sa  nullite,  I'on  respire  En  attendant,  void  ton  ^me 

Plus  k  son  aise  qu',ci-bas.  Que  j'ai  prise  au  grand  magasin. 

Le  neant  est  un  lieu  tranquillc  No  crains  rien,  je  I'ai  bien  choisie, 

Quaucun  bruit  jamais  ne  troubla  :  C'est  une  kme  de  ma  facon  : 

Mais  le  detail  est  inutile :  J'ai  mis  deux  doses  de  folie, 

Vous  avez  tons  passe  par  Ik.  Pour  une  dose  de  raison. 


CHARLES'S   VERSES. 


299 


CLXXXYIII. 


TO   M.    DE    REMUSAT,    AT    PARIS 


* 


Vichy,  Friday,  June  18,  1813. 

...  I  am  quite  settled,  and  am  leading  the  life  of  a  her- 
mit. We  have  so  much  time  on  our  hands  that  I  waste  a 
little  on  principle.  In  the  morning  we  gather  flowers  in  a 
small  garden  belonging  to  the  house ;  at  eleven  o'clock  we 
breakfast,  and  then  go  out.  I  have  discovered  some  rather 
nice  little  Avalks.  The  country  about  here  is  neither  pretty 
nor  ugly.  It  is  a  plain  of  large  extent,  surrounded  by  grass- 
grown  hills.     At  this  season  of  the  year  all  is  bright ;  the 


"  '  Ecoute-moi  bicn,  je  t'en  pric ! 
Ce  registrc-ci  te  promet 
La  France  et  Paris  pour  patrie. 
Veux-tu  savcir  ce  qu'on  y  fait  ? 
Guide  par  la  mode  et  les  femmcs, 
En  guerre,  en  proces,  en  amours, 
Heureux,  on  fait  des  epigrammes, 
Et  malheureux,  des  calembours. 

"  '  Li,  tu  viendras  h.  la  lumibrc, 
Et  tu  criras  incessamment. 
N'importc,  ton  p^re  et  ta  mere 
Diront :    Ccst  V7i  enfant  charniant ! 
Merite  leur  amour  extreme, 
Quant  k  moi,  jc  te  reponds  d'cux : 
Tu  les  aurais  choisis  toi-meme, 
Que  tu  n'aurais  pas  trouvc  mieux. 

"  '  Apres  une  sereine  enfancc, 
Au  college  tu  passeras. 
Persecute  par  la  science, 
De  la  science  tu  riras. 
En  faisant  ta  philosophic, 
Tu  chanteras  sur  ton  pipeau 
L'amour,  sans  avoir  une  amie, 
Et  le  vin,  en  buvant  de  I'cau. 


"  '  Pendant  quinze  ans,  ta  gaite  foUe 
Par  des  chansons  aura  fete 
Les  jours  d'un  age  qui  s'cnvolc : 
Mais  adieu  chansons  et  gaite  ! 
Berce  d'uue  vague  esperance. 
Ton  cceur  qui  semblera  s'ouvrir 
Avec  ta  premiere  romance, 
Laisse  Colore  un  premier  soupir. 

"  '  Vois-tu,  le  banquet  de  la  vie 
Cesae  parfois  d'etre  joyeux. 
Si  I'on  n'y  goutait  (ju'ambroisic, 
On  deviendrait  I'egal  des  dieux. 
Pour  toi,  sous  I'aile  de  ta  misrc, 
Aupres  de  ccux  que  tu  cheris, 
TAche  d'attraper  sur  la  terre 
Quelques  moments  du  Paradis.' 

"  Ainsi  disait  mon  bon  genie, 
Lorsqu'i  grand  bruit,  notre  tambour 
Vint  annonccr  Thourc  ennemie 
Ou,  pour  le  college,  il  fait  jour. 
Le  reveil  :\  Terreur  m'enleve  ; 
rtevenu  d'un  premier  enioi, 
Je  n'ai  rien  perdu  de  mon  rove, 
Car  j'ai  trouve  que  j'etais  tnoi.  {Bis.)  " 


*  In  1813  Corvisart  ordered  Mme.  de  Rcmusat  to  Vichy,  the  waters  at  Aix- 
la-Chapelle  having  done  her  serious  harm.  She  had  been  very  unwell  all  the 
winter,  and  was  falling  into  the  habits  of  an  invalid.  She  had,  however,  taken 
her  turn  of  service  as  Lady-in-Waiting  to  the  Empress  Josephine  at  Malmaison, 
and  had  started  for  Vichy  on  June  12,  1813. 


300  LETTERS  OP  MADAME  DE  REMUSAT. 

corn,  tlie  fruit-trees,  and  the  vines  are  in  their  prime.  There 
is  a  hill  that  reminds  me  of  the  Valley  of  Montmorency. 
There  are  nice  walks  in  the  neighborhood,  and  we  do  not 
need  horses.  We  return  to  the  house  about  noon.  Albert 
is  really  a  good  little  fellow ;  he  brings  the  tears  to  my  eyes 
twenty  times  a  day.  lie  is  my  only  occupation,  and  all  that 
I  do  is  with  reference  to  him.  At  two  o'clock  I  send  him 
out  for  a  walk  with  his  attendant.  They  walked  nearly  two 
leagues  yesterday  without  the  least  fatigue.  Meanwhile, 
during  their  absence,  I  work  or  read  or  pray ;  I  review  my 
past  life,  and  endeavor  to  disentangle  my  thoughts,  and  to 
reason  with  myself.  At  four  o'clock  Albert  comes  to  me 
again,  and  we  read  "  Cinderella  "  while  waiting  for  dinner, 
after  which  I  take  a  walk ;  and  yesterday  I  made  a  few  visits. 
I  intend  to  devote  this  part  of  the  day  to  social  duties.  I 
come  in  at  eight  o'clock  and  play  dominoes  with  the  boy 
until  his  bedtime ;  I  sit  up  until  ten,  and  then  I,  too,  go  to 
bed. 

After  this  fashion,  mon  ami,  I  have  passed  my  days  since 
Monday,  and  shall  continue  to  pass  them  in  the  same  way 
unless  my  health  should  unfortunately  interfere.  I  shall  not 
be  inconvenienced  by  society  here ;  there  are  several  inva- 
lids, and  peoj^le  live  as  they  like.  I  paid  my  visits  yesterday. 
Mme.  Ducayla, *  the  mother,  was  at  home;  she  is  very  nice 
and  gentle,  with  an  appearance  of  suffering  that  grieved  me. 
She  would  like  M.  de  Jaucourt  to  accompany  the  Queen,  who 
is  expected  to  arrive  here  to-day.  Iler  daughter  was  out, 
I  left  my  name  at  Mme.  de  Choiseul's  and  at  Mme.  d'Au- 
mont's,  who  goes  by  the  name  of  "  the  Duchess "  in  this 
place.  I  have  for  a  neighbor  Mme.  Jars,  the  wife  of  a  re- 
ceiver-general. She  confided  to  me  her  complaints  of  the 
bad  food  given  to  the  horses  here,  and  the  uselessness  of  the 

*  Mme.  Ducayla  was  sister  to  M.  de  Jaucourt.  Her  daughter,  or  rather  her 
daughter-in-law,  became  celebrated,  as  every  one  knows,  under  the  Restoration, 
lime.  Jars,  of  Lyons,  obtained  a  divorce  shortly  afterward,  in  order  to  marry 
EUevion  the  actor. 


LOVE-MAKING.  301 

horses  on  account  of  the  bad  roads.  Mme.  d'Orvilliers  is 
here  also,  but  I  did  not  find  her  at  home.  And  these  are  all. 
I  have  not  yet  spoken  to  a  single  man ;  I  see  them  passing 
my  windows  both  on  foot  and  on  horseback,  but  they  do  not 
seem  desirous  of  my  acquaintance,  nor  am  I  of  theirs.  Mme. 
Regnault  is  expected ;  I  shall  be  just  as  well  pleased  if  she 
delays  her  coming  a  little  while.  I  have  now  giv^en  you  a 
faithful  account,  which  would  hardly  be  amusing  but  for  the 
interest  one  takes  in  all  the  sayings  and  doings  of  those  one 
loves.  I  have  been  tolerably  well  all  the  week.  The  doc- 
tor *  is  so  busy  that  I  have  only  caught  a  glimjjse  of  him  ; 
he  is  well  spoken  of,  and  liked  by  every  one,  and  is  very 
clever.  I  am  going  presently  to  his  house  to  pay  him  a  little 
visit. 

I  have  received  a  charming  letter  from  my  sister ;  I  wrote 
to  her  yesterday.  She  tells  me  that  nobody  had  yet  heard 
from  me,  and  she  writes  on  Tuesday  !  I  posted  a  short  let- 
ter at  Montargis  on  Saturday  ;  it  must  have  been  lost.  A 
severe  storm  had  forced  me  to  remain  six  hours  in  a  cottage  ; 
only  for  that  I  could  easily  have  reached  Briare,  f  notwith- 
standing the  wretched  posting  arrangements  in  the  neighbor- 
hood of  Paris.  During  the  storm  I  amused  myself  watching 
the  love-making  between  a  servant-girl  at  the  inn  and  an 
hostler,  who  were  very  little  incommoded  by  my  presence, 
and  were  taking  advantage  of  the  storm  and  of  the  absence 
of  the  girl's  kinsfolk.  Gestures  were  more  abundant  than 
dialogue  between  them,  and  I  thought  as  I  looked  on  of  the 
dijfference  made  by  education  in  people's  notions  of  a  subject 
which  each  one  develops  after  his  own  fashion.  A  big  brush 
was  used  to  lay  on  the  colors  in  this  instance,  as  ma  chere 
amie  X  would  say ;  yet  there  was  something  about  it  more 

*  M.  Lucas. 

f  Briare  is  a  small  town  in  the  department  of  Loirct.  In  one  of  the  letters 
I  have  suppressed,  a  pretty  chAtcau  was  described  with  admiring  envy.  She 
alludes  here  jestingly  to  this. 

X  Mme.  de  Sdvign^. 


302  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  REMU8AT. 

frank  and  natural,  and  tliere  was  also  the  feminine  instinct, 
everywhere  the  same,  to  impart  artifice  and  coquetry  to  the 
girl's  proceedings.  I  am  inclined  to  think  that  education 
makes  more  difference  to  men  than  to  women.  To  whatever 
class  a  woman  belongs,  she  is  well  aware  that  she  must  affect 
to  part  reluctantly  with  that  which  in  the  end  she  is  willing 
to  grant. 

When  the  storm  was  over  I  left  the  loving  couple  and 
reached  Montargis  at  eight  o'clock.  The  next  day  I  trav- 
eled through  the  beautiful  country  of  which  I  told  you,  and 
began  bargaining  for  my  chateau,  where  I  want  to  make  ar- 
rangements to  sleep  on  my  way  back ;  or  I  can  do  so  at  my 
friend  the  postmaster's,  in  case  you  should  have  delayed  send- 
ing your  authorization.  It  is  four  leagues  beyond  Briare, 
coming  from  Paris.  Nevers  is  an  ugly  and  uncomfortable 
town ;  Moulins  is  better,  and  Vichy  very  ugly  indeed. 

You  may  imagine  that  I  often  think  of  Mme.  de  Sevigne ; 
I  inquire  for  her  and  for  her  house.  If  I  found  it,  I  should 
almost  be  tempted  to  leave  my  name  there ;  but  when  I 
speak  of  her,  no  one  can  answer.  I  know  more  about  her 
til  an  the  people  here. 

I  read  Grimm's  *  rubbish  as  I  came  along;  it  is  just  the 
thing  to  take  up  during  a  day's  journey.  It  occurred  to  me 
that  we  are  very  silly  to  attribute  so  much  importance  to  the 
Present,  which  is  of  so  little  account  when  once  it  has  be- 
come the  Past.  All  the  extracts  he  gives,  all  the  little  anec- 
dotes of  the  day,  the  society  verses,  the  eagerness  of  every 
one  over  a  thousand  trifles,  are  tiresome  to  I'ead  of,  and  yet 
these  things  pretty  well  sum  up  the  life  of  the  rich  in  a  great 
city,  and  occupy  the  greater  part  of  our  time.  There  is  some- 
thing pitiable  in  all  this.  Happy  am  I  to  be  able  to  devote 
my  life  to  loving  and  being  with  you  !  Ah  !  mon  mni,  life 
is  worth  living,  and  it  is  worth  coming  to  Yichy  in  the  en- 
deavor to  retain  it.  ... 


*  «< 


Grimm's  Letters"  had  just  been  published,  in  1812  and  1813. 


THE  PRINCESSE  DE  ROHAN.  303 


CLXXXIX. 

TO   M.    DE    KEMUSAT,    AT    PARIS. 

VicUT,  Sunday,  June  20,  1S13. 

.  .  .  To-day  is  Sunday.  I  went  to  Mass.  The  Queen  * 
was  there,  so  was  everybody  else ;  she  saw  me  among  the 
crowd,  and  came  very  kindly  to  speak  to  me.  On  my  way 
back  I  met  the  water-drinkers,  to  whom  I  paid  my  civilities. 
I  have  called  upon  a  stout  Princessc  de  Kohan  here,  who 
seems  a  good  sort  of  woman,  and  made  great  advances,  say- 
ing she  knew  all  my  family ;  can  you  tell  me,  any  of  you, 
who  she  is  ?  I  have  seen  M.  de  Boisgelin,  and  M.  d'Har- 
coui-t,  and  M.  and  Mme.  d'Orvilliers.  f  You  will  not  be 
much  interested  in  all  this ;  neither  was  I ;  and  I  returned 
to  the  house  and  to  my  desk.  Mme.  de  Sevigne  says  that,  in 
order  to  take  the  waters  properly,  one  should  be  spensierata  ; 
and  you  say  the  same  when  you  tell  me  to  forget  everything  ; 
but  you  will  admit,  mon  jpauvre  ami,  that  this  is  not  easy. 
However,  I  am  doing  my  best,  and  making  the  most  of  my 
little  stock  of  common  sense  and  patience. 

You  overwhelm  me  with  your  account  of  your  exertions 
about  the  Comedie.  All  these  pleasures  seem  to  augur  well 
for  peace.  Charles  writes  to  me  that  he  fears  you  also  may  be 
sent  for ;  I  don't  know  whether  to  wish  it  or  not — what  say 
you  ?  I  foresee  that  your  journey  is  at  an  end  ;  %  and  this  dis- 
appoints me  a  little,  but  yet  I  can  understand  your  remain- 
ing. I  must  resign  myself  and  wait,  and  take  life,  at  present, 
much  as  I  take  it  at  Yichy — that  is,  not  looking  beyond  each 
day.     Mnic.  do  Yintimille  writes  to  me  that  she  has  gained 

*  The  Queen  of  Spain,  wife  of  Joseph  Bonaparte.  She  was  at  Vichy  with  her 
sister  the  Marechalc  Bernadotte,  Princess,  and  subsequently  Queen,  of  Sweden. 

f  M.  de  Boisgelin  and  M.  (afterward  the  Due)  d'Harcourt  were  slightly  re- 
lated to  each  other.  M.  d'Orvilliers  was  the  son  of  a  valet  de  chambrc  of  Louis 
XVI.     He  died  a  peer  of  France. 

\  A  journey  to  Lafitte  which  did  not  take  place. 


304  LETTERS   OF  MADAME  BE  R^MUSAT. 

her  lawsuit.  Mon  cousin  *  lias  also  sent  me  a  kind  certificate 
of  friendship.  He  protests  in  every  way  that  he  loves  me, 
that  he  regrets  me  more  than  anybody,  and  that  his  life  is 
going  to  be  dreadfully  dull.  I  concede  his  affection  for  me, 
and  that  he  would  have  preferred  my  not  leaving  Paris  ;  but, 
in  order  to  carry  on  the  argument,  I  shall  not  yield  the  last 
point,  and  1  shall  tell  him  that  I  believe  there  are  persons 
who  love  me  even  better  than  he. 

Monday. 

It  is  not  raining  to-day,  and  I  am  in  a  better  humor; 
you  must  resign  yourself  to  hearing  of  all  the  changes  in  the 
weather  from  me.  First,  because  the  sun  is  very  important 
here,  and,  secondly,  because  the  doctor  forbids  us  the  waters 
when  the  weather  is  damp,  on  pain  of  fever,  and  that  a  day 
without  the  waters  counts  in  the  matter  of  absence,  though 
not  in  the  matter  of  treatment.  However,  it  does  not  rain, 
but  it  is  cold,  and  I  am  still  living  in  smoke.  I  went  yester- 
day to  visit  the  hospital  which  is  situated  in  old  Yichy,  It 
is  a  large,  clean  house,  kept  by  Sisters  of  Charity.  They 
were  at  vespers  when  I  arrived.  I  returned  thither  this 
morning.  They  were  anxious  to  see  me,  and  were  already 
great  friends  with  Albert.  I  was  charmed  with  the  appear- 
ance of  these  good  Sisters,  and  with  their  expression  of  re- 
pose ;  then*  speech  is  full  of  Divine  Providence,  and  their 
welcome  was  most  cordial.  They  received  me  first  in  their 
surgery,  where,  as  you  may  imagine,  I  felt  quite  at  home. 
They  took  me  through  the  wards — four  very  large  rooms, 
for  men,  children,  and  women.  They  have  baths  ;  they  feed 
the  poor,  while  they  are  themselves  extremely  poor;  for 
their  sole  resources  are  a  small  farm  worth  about  four  thou- 
sand francs  a  year,  and  the  collection  made  for  them  every 
season ;  but  with  those  small  means  they  relieve  much  suf- 
fering. God  helps  them,  they  say,  and  they  never  find 
themselves  obliged  to  deny  an  alms  to  any  supplicant. 

Two  or  three  of  them  are  young — one  is  a  really  beauti- 

*  M.  Pasquicr.     He  was  at  that  time  Prefect  of  Police. 


SISTERS   OF  CHARITY.  305 

fill  girl ;  the  others  are  old.  The  Sujoerior  told  me  slie  was 
anything  but  happy  when  set  at  liberty  during  the  Revolu- 
tion, and  that  she  had  resumed  her  nun's  habit,  and  the  du- 
ties belonging  to  it,  with  dehght.  A\''hen  I  told  her  that  I 
venerated  her  state  of  life,  she  answered,  with  the  greatest 
simplicity :  "  Ah !  madame,  you  who  are  in  the  world  have 
many  more  duties  and  difficulties  than  we,  and  much  more 
merit  in  the  sight  of  God !  You  are  continually  tried  ;  while 
as  for  us,  we  have  some  little  labor  indeed,  but  such  inward 
joy  that  we  must  almost  fear  it  will  be  reckoned  against  us 
some  day."  I  confess  that  I  was  so  much  touched  by  these 
words  that  my  eyes  were  wet.  They  showed  me  their  chapel, 
where  I  prayed  heartily,  and  promised  to  come  there  to  Mass. 
I  foresee  they  will  often  have  my  company.  As  I  was  going 
out,  I  met  the  pretty  nun  I  told  you  about ;  she  is  in  delicate 
health,  and  has  come  from  Nevers  for  the  waters.  I  smiled 
when  she  said  Nevers  and  thought  of  "  Yert-Yert,"  and  I 
came  home  with  a  mixture  of  serious  reflection  and  lively 
thoughts  that  made  my  walk  interesting  and  amusing. 

The  Comtesse  Laure*  arrived  yesterday,  with  two  car- 
riages, a  courier,  and  a  good  deal  of  fuss.  The  house  was 
quite  upset ;  every  kind  of  honor  was  paid  her,  for  she  is 
the  real  "comtesse"  of  the  house,  w^iile  I  glide  in  silence 
through  all  the  commotion  she  makes.  She  brought  a  lady 
with  her,  and  some  man,  I  know  not  whom ;  perhaps  she 
took  literally  some  note  like  the  one  I  received  from  M. 
Lucas.  Do  you  remember?  I  mean  the  wax  candle,  the 
chocolate,  and  the  humble  servant.  I  saw  the  Queen  and 
the  Princess  of  Sweden  for  a  moment  on  the  Promenade ; 
not  being  "  countesses,"  they  make  no  fuss.  Mme.  de  Mag- 
nitot  is  in  attendance,  and  also  M.  de  Jaucourt,t  with  whom 

*  Mme.  Rcgnault  de  Saint-Jean  d'Angcly  was  by  birth  Mile.  Laura  de  Bon- 
neuil.     She  was  considered  very  handsome. 

f  The  Comte  Fran9oi3  de  Jaucourt,  nephew  of  him  who  labored  so  ardently 
and  so  successfully  at  the  "  Encyclopedic "  of  Diderot  and  D'Alembert,  was 
born  in  1757.     lie  was  a  gentleman-like  and  most  agreeable  man.     lie  held 


306  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  REMUSAT. 

I  passed  part  of  yesterday  evening,  and  whom  I  like,  as  you 
know.  His  sister  is  very  pleasant,  and  makes  me  welcome. 
The  gentlemen  here  pay  me  very  little  attention  as  yet.  Is 
this  a  good  or  a  bad  sign  ?  I  shall  ask  my  little  Sisters  of 
Charity  the  next  time  I  see  them,  for  I  am  tempted  to  con- 
sult them  about  everything. 


cxc. 

TO   MME.    DE    KEMUSAt's    SON    CHARLES,    AT   PARIS.* 

Vichy,  Tuesday,  June  22,  1813. 

You  are  a  rogue,  M.  Charles,  allow  me  to  tell  you.  You 
are  not  in  the  least  in  earnest  when  you  try  to  persuade  me 
that  you  are  afraid  of  writing  to  me  lest  I  should  find  your 
letters  tedious.  You  deserve  I  should  let  you  believe  the 
very  worst  on  that  point  by  way  of  punishment.  Unfortu- 
nately, I  do  not  know  how  to  lie  with  an  air  of  truth  in  this 
matter,  and,  in  the  second  place,  you  would  not  believe  me. 
So,  my  dear  child,  I  will  merely  say  your  letter  amused  me 
very  much,  and  that  if  you  want  me  to  endure  my  exile 
patiently,  you  will  write  to  me  very  often.  I  will  allow  you 
to  put  loops  to  your^'s,  and  to  use  as  many  hyphens  as  you 

some  post  at  the  Court  of  Spain.  He  had  been  a  member  of  the  Legislative 
Assembly,  and  was  a  great  friend  of  M.  de  Talleyrand.  He  was  a  member  of 
the  Provisional  Government  of  1813,  Naval  Minister  under  Louis  XVIIL,  and 
finally  Peer  of  France  under  the  Restoration  and  the  Government  of  July.  He 
died  in  1852.     He  was  the  real  head  of  the  Protestants  in  France. 

*  My  father  had  preserved  a  great  number  of  little  notes  that  his  mother 
had  written  to  him  in  his  childhood,  in  which  her  maternal  tenderness  was  ex- 
pressed with  grace  or  with  gayety.  I  consider  her  aifection  for  him  has  been 
made  sufficiently  apparent  in  her  letters  to  her  husband.  But  in  1813  my  father 
was  sixteen  years  of  age,  and  some  of  her  letters  to  him  are  worth  preservation. 
He  was  destined  to  become,  in  subsequent  years,  her  most  active  correspondent. 
I  select  for  publication  here  only  one  of  his  letters,  in  which  I  believe  there  is 
proof  of  a  development  of  mind  very  unusual  at  his  age. 


TO   CHARLES.  307 

please,  etc.,  and  I  shall  receive  everything  with  delight  and 
gratitude. 

I  have  much  less  to  tell  you  on  my  side.  I  could  certain- 
ly write  a  certain  endless  chapter,  but,  in  the  first  place,  you 
do  not  like  to  have  your  feelings  touched,  and,  in  the  second, 
I  do  not  want  to  touch  my  own ;  and  if  I  once  began  I  know 
not  how  it  might  end.  f  find  absence  and  the  complete  iso- 
lation in  which  I  live  very  hard  to  bear.  Affection  apart,  if 
indeed  the  love  of  a  foolish  mother  can  be  put  on  one  side, 
it  is  difficult  to  find  an  equivalent  for  the  pleasure  of  being 
with  you  and  your  father.  I  do  not  even  seek  one ;  mem- 
ories of  the  past  and  a  faint  gleam  of  hope,  on  which  I  dare 
not  reckon  as  yet,  since  it  is  very  distant,  keep  me  up  pretty 
well.  I  walk  out ;  I  think ;  I  build  castles  for  you,  not  in 
the  air,  believe  me,  but  close  to  Paris  and  to  me ;  I  ask  God 
to  preserve  you ;  I  read ;  I  teach  Albert ;  and  the  time  slips 
by,  for,  happily  or  unhappily,  time  never  halts. 

But  can  you  guess  what  I  am  reading  ?  Pretty  well,  I 
fancy.  My  beloved  Mme.  de  Sevigne.  /  have  never  read 
her  so  thoroughly  hefore,  and  I  am  charmed.  But  what, 
think  you,  is  the  consequence  ?  Why,  that  I  feel  ashamed 
and  disinclined  to  write  afterward !  I  should  like  to  copy 
out  her  letters  and  send  them  to  all  of  you.  I  might  cer- 
tainly sign  my  name  to  all  the  affectionate  things  she  says  to 
her  daughter,  and  address  them  to  you  without  any  hesita- 
tion. That  dear  and  charming  woman  has  felt  everything, 
and  said  everything,  and  if  I  do  not  copy  her,  I  must  restrict 
myself  to  telling  you  simply  that  I  love  you  with  all  my 
heart,  which  will  be  neither  very  new  nor  very  amusing. 

I  do  not  know  why  you  do  not  like  M.  de  Yillemain's* 

*  M.  Villcniain,  born  in  1790,  was  already  a  professor  at  the  Lycec  Cliarle- 
magne,  and  Maitre  de  Conferences  at  the  fieole  Xormalc.  He  had  just  obtained 
H  prize  at  the  Academy  for  his  "  Eloge  dc  Montaigne."  He  afterward  became, 
as  every  one  knows,  a  great  author,  and  died  in  18G7.  As  to  the  writer  of  the 
"  Desert,"  it  is  probably  M.  de  Chateaubriand,  who  had  just  brought  out  his 
"  Itinerairc  dc  Paris  il  Jerusalem." 


308  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  REMUS  AT. 

quotations.  I  like  some  of  them ;  but,  at  any  rate,  I  agree 
with  you  as  to  the  young  professor's  prose.  It  is  not  at  all 
juvenile,  and  has  a  flavor  of  the  olden  days  that  I  love  so 
much.  You  will  perhaps  say  :  "  But  if  you  admire  his  style 
so  much,  how  can  you  also  admire  that  of  the  author  of  '  Le 
Desert,'  which  is  very  dissimilar? "  My  dear  boy,  one  must 
try  to  like  everything  as  much  as  ever  one  can. 

Every  day  I  receive  fresh  versions  of  the  death  of  poor 
Mme.  de  Broc,*  and  of  the  reflections  occasioned  by  it.  All 
those  who  write  to  tell  me  of  it  think  it  necessary  to  descant 
on  the  readiness  with  which  Death  lays  hold  of  us,  and  God 
knows  how  ill  suited  to  me,  as  I  am  here,  are  all  such  melan- 
choly thoughts  !  It  is  true,  nevertheless,  that  we  must  needs 
think  sometimes  of  that  our  inevitable  end,  and  meanwhile 
live  well  in  both  senses  of  the  term,  which  are  by  no  means 
the  same,  and  yet  may  be  completely  harmonized.  .  .  . 

Do  not  forget  to  tell  me  how  you  are  now  placed,  and 
what  are  your  expectations  for  the  next  examination,  and 
also  whether  M.  Leclerc  has  spoken  to  M.  de  "Wailly,  and 
then  beg  your  father  to  ask  M.  Yillemain  to  dinner  some 
Sunday.  I  want  him  to  keep  all  my  little  circle  together, 
that  I  may  not  feel  quite  lost  on  my  return. 

Mme.  Cheron  tells  me  that  her  son  made  her  very  happy 
by  writing  her  a  nice  letter  on  his  seventeenth  birthday. 
Tell  Henri  this.  To  hear  of  the  pleasure  felt  by  his  mother 
will  give  him  pleasure  too,  for  he  also  is  an  excellent  son.  I 
wonder  why  I  say  also  f  Can  you  explain  this  association  of 
ideas  ?  If  you  can  not,  you  must  ask  your  father,  who  has 
been  greatly  pleased  by  all  yom-  httle  attentions  to  him  since 
I  left  you  both.  Ah !  you  are  trying,  perhaps,  to  console 
him  for  my  absence  ?  That  is  too  much !  I  must  make 
haste  to  come  back,  for  you  might  get  on  so  well  together  as 
not  to  leave  me  the  least  little  place  between  you. 

Adieu,  my  dear  and  good  child.     Above  all,  keep  quite 

*  Mme.  de  Broc,  a  friend  of  Queen  Hortense,  was  accidentally  drowned  in 
her  presence,  while  visiting  a  waterfall  at  Aix  in  Savoy. 


AT  THE  BATHS.  3C9 

well,  and,  next  to  that,  love  me.  As  for  inc,  I  shall  con- 
tinue to  take  the  waters,  and  to  bathe  in  them,  so  as  to  be 
stronger  this  winter.  All  I  ask  from  God  is  strength  enough 
to  watch  your  life  and  to  see  you  happy.  Once  again,  adieu. 
I  feel  that  tears  are  very  near,  so  I  must  fly  from  them. 


CXCI. 

TO    M.    DE    EEMUSAT,    AT    PARIS. 

Vichy,  Sunday,  June  27,  1S13. 

I  LIKE  being  near  the  Ducayla  household ;  we  suit  each 
other  admirably,  and  yet  without  interfering  one  with  the 
other.  I  see  little,  however,  of  M.  de  Jaucourt,  who  is 
obliged  to  be  frequently  in  attendance  on  the  Queen,  and  as 
she  lives  in  Le  Grand  Yichy,  our  lives  are  quite  apart.  I 
meet  this  kind  and  unaffected  little  Queen  at  the  spring 
every  morning.  She  comes  on  foot  to  drink  her  glass  of 
w-ater,  quite  quietly  and  alone,  in  a  simple  gray  silk  gown, 
witli  a  parasol  in  her  hand.  The  Princess  of  Sweden  is  here, 
trying  to  get  cured  of  something  in  her  blood,  which  quite 
spoils  her  complexion,  and  makes  her  melancholy  and  in- 
clined to  solitude,  I  go  to  see  them  now  and  then  in  my 
morning  dress,  and  that  is  all.  When  I  come  to  think  of  it, 
if  you  were  to  ask  me  what  I  do  most,  I  should  say  I  walk 
more  than  anything  else,  and  I  am  consequently  quite 
sleepy  by  nine  o'clock.  Pray  tell  Mine.  Cheron  and  Mine, 
de  Grasse  to  make  their  minds  easy,  and  that  I  am  not  a  bit 
clever  in  this  place.  I  never  take  up  a  pen  except  to  write 
lettei-s,  and,  with  the  exception  of  those  to  you,  I  make  them 
as  short  as  possible,  the  waters  being  a  good  excuse.  It 
wearies  me  to  write  letters.  I  have  always  to  speak  of  my- 
self, and  repeat  the  same  things,  and  when  I  have  just  fin- 
ished a  letter  to  you,  or  to  Mme.  de  Grasse,  who  is  almost 
you,  I  liave  nothing  more  to  say.     Good-night. 


310  LETTERS   OF  MADAME  DE  EEMUSAT. 

Monday^  28th. 

After  writing  to  you  yesterday,  I  spent  an  liour  with 
youno-  Mnie.  Ducayla,  who  is  a  pleasant  and  a  good  woman. 
We  had  some  agreeable  conversation.  Like  me,  she  wants 
to  be  religious.  She  often  sees  the  Abbe  Duval,*  and  likes 
him  ;  so,  you  see,  we  had  a  good  subject  for  our  talk.  I  told 
her  of  the  uneasiness  I  sometimes  feel  at  the  large  share  of 
happiness  that  you  bestow  on  me,  and  which  must  find  its 
makeweight  somewliere.  This  gave  me  an  opportunity  of 
speaking  of  you,  and  when  I  had  begun  on  that  topic,  I  did 
not  soon  come  to  an  end ;  and  then  I  said  a  word  or  two 
about  Charles,  and,  in  short,  about  all  my  happiness.  But  I 
fancy,  now  I  am  on  the  subject,  that  you  are  afraid  I  may 
go  to  an  extent  that  would  be  inconvenient  to  you  in  the 
matter  of  piety.  Do  not  alarm  yourself.  I  am  far,  indeed, 
from  any  deep  devotion  at  present.  My  will  is  good,  but 
the  least  thing  discourages  and  cools  me,  and  I  can  not  ex- 
plain why;  but  my  imagination,  which  plays  a  part  in 
other  feelings  or  actions  of  my  life,  is  not  excited  on  the 
subject  of  religion.  On  the  contrary,  the  occasional  medita- 
tions I  make  on  that  subject  lead  me  to  calm  and  serious 
reflections ;  therefore  you  may  be  quite  at  ease,  for  I  am  still 
far  from  becoming  a  good  Carmelite. 


CXCII. 

TO    MME.  DE    KEMUSAt's    SON    CHARLES,    AT    TAEIS. 

Vichy,  July  7,  1S13. 

I  SHOULD  have  written  to  you  again  before  now,  my  dear 
boy,  only  for  the  monotony  of  my  life  liere,  which  furnishes 
me  with  nothing  to  tell  you.  There  is  one  subject  which 
could  not  easily  be  exhausted,  but  I  know  you  dislike  having 

*  The  Abbe  Legris-Duval  was  a  clever  man,  of  gentle  piety,  and  a  great 
favorite  in  the  Faubourg  St.  Germain. 


TO   CHARLES.  311 

your  feelings  ever  so  slightly  touched ;  and,  besides,  it  would 
interfere  with  the  vow  of  patience  which  I  made  on  arriving 
here.  So  I  cut  short  all  my  regrets  and  all  my  tenderness, 
and  I  sit  opposite  my  desk  without  venturing  to  refer  to 
them.  Yet  I  must  not  be  an  ungrateful  mother  either,  nor 
omit  to  tell  you  that  your  dear  letters  are  the  greatest  plea- 
sure of  my  solitude. 

Your  father  is  right  in  saying  that  I  do  not  wish  for  your 
philosophical  treatise.  You  must  know  that  since  I  have 
been  here  I  no  longer  care  to  write.  With  the  exception  of 
a  few  occasional  letters,  I  do  not  touch  a  pen ;  for  writing 
tires  me,  and  is,  besides,  against  my  doctor's  advice,  and  you 
know  my  reverence  for  the  Faculty.  AVhat  do  you  think  of 
my  new  passion,  which,  perhaps,  you  have  heard  of,  for  the 
doctor  here  ?  Thanks  be  to  Heaven,  we  have  now  three 
doctors  in  this  house.  If  we  are  not  well  in  health,  we  are 
at  least  sure  of  dying  according  to  rule.  But  my  doctor  is  a 
very  pleasant  man  ;  he  agrees  with  me  about  my  favorite 
century,  reads  Massillon  to  me  when  I  ask  him,  and  has  a 
portrait  of  Mme.  de  Sevigne  in  his  room.  How  could  any 
one  resist  such  attractions?  His  society  is  certainly  the 
pleasantest  I  have  met  with  here,  and  the  only  companion- 
ship I  care  to  seek.  Toward  other  people  I  own  that  I  am 
rather  unsociable,  and  I  prefer  my  rambles  with  Albert,  and 
thinking  of  you,  or  reading  over  your  letters  and  Mme.  de 
Grasse's  (with  or  without  comparison  between  them),  to 
talking  of  the  waters  and  their  effects  with  everybody  I 
meet  at  the  springs. 

I  can  see  that  you,  too,  are  leading  a  quiet,  regular  life. 
Your  father  has  taken  a  liking  to  his  occupation  that  you 
will  not  find  contagious,  and  that  we  shall  laugh  at  when  I 
come  home  ;  for  laugh  we  shall,  since  you  say  that  my  so- 
called  melancholy  suits  well  with  your  bright  temper.  I 
assure  you  that  this  gayety  of  mine  that  you  have  discovered 
is  a  kind  of  reflection  of  your  own,  for  here  I  can  hardly 
perceive  it.     l>y  seeing  you,  and  listenitig  to  you,  and  oh- 


312  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  Ri^MUSAT. 

serving  your  happy  nature,  I  am  invested,  it  seems,  with  a 
cliaracter  that  disappears  with  you.  I  ought  to  be  ashamed, 
perhaps,  tliat  the  humor  of  a  mother  should  depend  in  such 
fashion  on  that  of  her  son,  but  the  fact  remains,  and  I  de- 
cline to  investigate  the  depth  of  such  an  offense  against 
maternal  dignity. 

But,  though  I  do  not  write  or  do  my  woolwork,  neither 
do  I  read  anything  to  speak  of.  "  But,  mamma,  how  do 
you  employ  your  time  ? "  My  dear  son,  I  take  the  waters, 
I  bathe,  I  eat,  and  I  sleep.  What  more  would  you  have  ? 
I  have,  however,  begun  your  "  Discours  sur  I'Histoire  Uni- 
verselle."  I  don't  know  why,  I  find  it  rather  dull.  Keep 
this  a  secret.  It  is  because  I  am  quite  stupefied  by  it.  I  do 
not  understand  how  one  can  help  getting  into  confusion 
amid  such  admirable  order.  I  have  already  thought  it  over, 
and  get  lost  among  those  brackets.  You  will  set  me  right. 
My  favorite  work  *  is  the  only  one  that  I  can  stick  to.  I 
am  quite  distressed  at  the  death  of  the  Due  de  la  Rochefou- 
cauld, which  I  learned  yesterday.  By-the-by,  he  used  to  say : 
"  We  have  not  sufficient  strength  to  follow  out  our  reason  "  / 
and  Mme.  de  Grignan  used  to  say :  "  IFe  are  not  sufficiently 
reasonable  to  follow  out  our  strength.''''  "What  do  you  think  ? 
"Which  of  them  was  right  \  If  you  are  for  Mme.  de  Grig- 
nan,  I  will  tell  her  mother,  who  will  be  delighted,  and  M. 
de  la  Rochefoucauld  will  not  mind,  as  he  is  dead. 

I  brought  with  me  here  a  volume  of  selections  from  Mas- 
sillon  that  I  should  like  you  to  look  at.  They  are  models  of 
thought  and  style.  I  should  wish  you,  my  dear  boy,  to  like 
Massillon,  and  to  be  helped  by  him  to  be  a  good  Christian. 
Your  friends  of  the  time  of  Louis  XIV.  were  such,  and  were 
none  the  less  great  men. 

But  to  return  to  our  own  times.  Tell  me  what  is  going 
on  at  the  Institute  since  the  death  of  Cailhava.f     Are  you  a 

*  Mme.  de  Sevigne's  Letters. 

f  Cailhara,  a  member  of  the  French  Academy  and  a  dramatic  author,  had 
just  died,  on  June  20th,  in  his  eighty-third  year. 


TO   CHARLES.  313 

candidate  1  I  would  certainly  vote  for  you.  Tell  me  about 
the  prizes,  and  try  to  get  some,  for  my  sake,  if  not  for  your 
own.  I  do  not  like  you  to  be  so  philosophical ;  it  does  not 
suit  with  your  youth.  Xothing  is  good  before  its  time.  The 
age  of  indifference  will  come  quite  soon  enough.  As  for 
me,  I  feel  very  great  ambition  for  you.  For  your  sake,  I 
have  become  a  schemer ;  and  it  would  take  little  to  fill  me 
with  envy  on  your  account.  Only  remark  the  vices  I  shall 
owe  to  you  ! 

Do  write  those  verses  and  send  them  to  me ;  above  all, 
let  there  be  one  for  the  Feast  of  St.  Clare,  whether  I  am 
there  with  you  or  still  here.  Adieu,  my  dear  boy ;  the  sun 
is  setting,  and  I  can  not  see  to  write.  I  too  will  go  to  bed. 
Adieu,  my  dear  and  good  son.  I  must  tell  you  sincerely 
that  you  are  the  joy  of  my  heart,  and,  indeed,  of  my  mind 
too,  and  I  think  I  am  very  silly,  and  shall  end  by  making 
you  ungrateful  for  so  much  love. 


CXCIII. 

TO   MME.    DE   REMUSAt's    SON   CHARLES,    AT   PARIS. 

Vichy,  July  10,  1813. 

You  are  the  dearest  and  best  son  in  the  world.  This  is 
a  truth  that  I  will  defend  at  the  point  of  my  eloquence,  or, 
rather,  that  1  shall  have  no  occasion  to  defend,  for  I  shall 
meet  with  no  one  to  controvert  it.  Meanwhile,  I  feci  it  to 
the  core  of  my  heart,  and  I  oa\ti  that  I  tliank  God  for  the 
child  he  has  given  me.  I  must  inform  you,  however,  that, 
notwithstanding  all  your  good  qualities  that  Ilove  so  much, 
I  think  you  are  a  little  roguish  toward  your  mother.  You 
praise  tliat  poor  woman  very  much ;  you  feel  you  must  gain 
her  good  graces  and  correct  her  natural  antipathy,  and,  in 
default  of  anything  l)etter,  you  compliment  her  on  her  letters. 
Alas!  my  child,  I  do  not  know  what  you  can  find  of  any 
14 


314  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  REMUSAT. 

value  in  -what  I  write  to  you.  I  seem  to  have  scarcely  an 
idea  in  my  head  in  my  solitude,  and  as  to  my  feelings,  you 
know  I  have  made  a  vow  of  silence  about  them.  But  it  is 
all  the  better  for  me  if  my  emptiness  pleases  you. 

There  is  some  truth  in  what  you  say  of  the  facility  with 
which  w^omen  can  write.  I  can  hardly  give  a  reason  for  it, 
unless  it  arise  from  our  habit  of  attaching  greater  importance 
than  men  do  to  the  thousands  of  little  daily  occurrences 
which  arouse  emotion  in  us,  and  we  are  thus  led  to  talk  of 
them  w^ith  more  liveliness  and  interest,  but  without  makinir 
too  much  of  them ;  for  it  is  a  feminine  gift  to  touch  lightly 
on  everything,  without  pausing  on  any.  Observe  the  piquant 
turn  which  a  Parisian  lady  of  society  can  give  to  the  conver- 
sation in  her  salon  ;  how  skillfully  she  eludes  an  embarrass- 
ing dissertation,  and  how  she  contrives  to  include  in  one 
general  conversation  a  number  of  men,  who  all  want  to  talk, 
but  who  would  often  have  said  nothing  if  they  had  not  been 
drawn  on,  or  if  their  interest  or  their  vanity  had  not  been 
awakened  by  some  adroit  word  or  other !  This  is  the  grand 
art  of  women,  and  the  reason  that  there  is  no  real  society 
except  in  countries  where  they  hold  a  certain  place.  True, 
this  is  said  to  have  its  drawbacks;  but  it  is  the  business  of 
you  gentlemen  to  defend  yourselves,  and  it  is  ours  to  take 
advantage  of  your  need  of  our  modest  means  of  pleasing 
you.  To  return  to  the  letters.  I  assure  you  that  yours,  too, 
give  me  extreme  pleasure.  You  write  very  well,  because 
you  write  naturally  and  pleasantly.  All  that  you  write  is 
exactly  like  yourself ;  in  a  letter  of  yours  there  are  a  thou- 
sand different  things,  just  as  there  are  in  your  own  head,  and 
the  bright  tints  of  your  sixteen  summers  animate  the  whole. 
I  thank  you  for  calling  me  your  hest  friend.  Remember, 
my  dear  boy,  that  you  have  given  me  this  name,  and  that  I 
shall  not  relinquish  it.  To  tell  you  the  truth,  I  had  reckon- 
ed on  it  in  a  measure,  but  I  like  you  to  assure  me  of  it.  In 
a  few  years  you  will  be  entering  the  world  ;  you  will  make 
friendships  of  your  own  ;  you  will  meet  with  both  joys  and 


TO   CHARLES.  315 

sorrows.  In  the  latter  case  especially,  I  would  wish  you  to 
think  of  me,  and  to  feel  the  need  of  confiding  in  me.  Wc 
may  not  always  be  able  to  cure  these  sorrows,  for  grief,  in 
this  world,  has  a  tenacious  grip ;  but  it  would  be  strange 
indeed  if  we  could  not  assuage  them  in  some  measure. 
There  is,  moreover,  a  sweetness,  that  you  will  know  some 
day,  in  confiding  in  a  person  who  understands  you,  and  can 
even  divine  your  feelings.  Confidence  is  one  of  the  best 
gifts  given  to  us ;  your  confidence  will  be  the  reward  of  my 
tender  affection. 

The  thought  that  you  are  now  going  to  love  me  as  a 
friend,  after  having  during  your  childhood  loved  me  as  a 
mother,  brightens  my  life,  and  makes  it  delightful  and  serene. 
But  this,  too,  is  a  subject  which  I  must  cut  short.  How  dif- 
ficult it  is  to  keep  one's  heart  out  of  the  convei-sation  in 
writing  to  one's  child !  But  now  to  business.  You  think 
that  M.  Fercoc  *  requires  too  much  of  you,  and  that  your 
youth  also  makes  requirements  that  you  can  not  refuse  to 
hear.  You  would  be  wrong  not  to  listen  to  it ;  one  must 
be  civil  to  every  one,  and  not  snub  poor  Youth — who,  be- 
sides, presents  itself  with  such  grace — too  rudely.  It  bids 
you  to  seek  pleasure  ?  And  who,  my  dear  child,  could  say 
that  this  is  wrong?  M.  Fercoc,  or,  rather,  wholesome  phi- 
losophy, would  certainly  allow  that  this  short  life  may  be 
brightened ;  only  they  warn  you  beforehand  to  avoid  those 
pleasures  that  would  sully  your  soul  and  would  oppose  them- 
selves to  the  inward  content  that  can  resist  all  things,  and  in 
which  the  true  independence  of  the  mind  consists.  "  But," 
you  will  perhaps  say,  "  I  do  not  care  particularly  for  inde- 
pendence of  mind."  Let  me  explain  :  there  is  independence 
and  independence.  Yield  sometimes  to  an  amusement  that 
pleases,  to  a  feeling  that  interests,  to  a  pretty  face  that  no- 

*  M.  Fercoc  was  a  disciple  of  Laromiquiferc  and  Professor  of  Philosophy  at 
the  Lycoe.  My  father  was  at  that  time  in  the  second  class,  and  in  those  days 
philosophy  was  studied  by  way  of  supplement  in  the  seqond  and  io  the  rhotoric 
class. 


316  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  R&MUSAT. 

tices  you  ;  but  retain  to  yourself  the  power  of  doing  without 
all  these  things,  should  they  fail  you,  without  feeling  inclined 
to  hang  yourself ;  and  that  you  may  be  able  to  do  this,  do 
not  exhaust  yourself  by  exhausting  pleasure.  On  the  con- 
trary, accustom  yourself  to  refuse  it  sometimes,  substituting 
for  it  the  satisfaction  of  having  enhanced  your  strength. 
This  is  a  compensation  invented  by  reason,  and,  perhaps,  also, 
by  vanity,  to  console  us  under  privation.  Men  who  have 
lived  and  wdio  are  wise  will  teach  you  the  way,  not,  indeed, 
to  be  always  content  on  every  occasion,  but  to  render  life 
happy  as  a  whole.  Believe  in  their  theory,  and  take  what 
you  can  of  it  into  practice,  adopting  nothing  exclusively,  not 
even  reason.  You  see  that  mine  is  an  easy  philosophy.  Per- 
haps you  like  my  jargon  better  than  Fercoc's,  but  I  know  to 
whom  I  am  speaking,  and  you  have  a  clear  head,  and  are 
quite  capable  of  understanding  everything,  and  abusing 
nothing. 

I  am  delighted  that  you  are  going  up  to  the  examination. 
I  have  my  hopes  that  I  cherish  in  secret,  and  consolations 
quite  ready  in  the  event  of  reverses.  A  mother  is  a  curi- 
ous mixture,  my  child,  but  there  is  really  something  good 
about  it. 


cxcy. 


TO   M.    DE    REMUS  AT,    AT   PAEIS. 


Vichy,  July  17,  1813. 
.  .  .  The  cousin  writes,  warning  me  against  intimacies 
that  might  last  beyond  the  Yichy  season.  My  sister  has 
M'hispered  her  fears  to  him;  but  tell  them  to  make  their 
minds  easy.  I  do  not  usually  throw  myself  at  people's 
lieads,  and  I  shall  come  back  as  free  as  I  departed.  The 
Count  is  now  quite  well,  but  I  hardly  see  him.  He  comes 
in,,  talks  of  the  Institute  or  of  literature  very  pleasantly  for 
a  few  minutes,  and  then  goes  away  and  there  is  no  more  of 


PRI VA  TE  THE  A  TRICALS.  317 

liim.  Yesterday  morning  three  acts  of  "Ipbigenie"  were 
performed  at  the  liouse  of  a  lady  of  tlieir  acquaintance. 
Mrae.  Regnault  acted  IpMgenia.  She  wore  a  severely  clas- 
sical costume  which  suited  her  beautiful  features.  Her  voice 
is  good,  and  that  is  enough'  when  backed  by  Racine  and  a 
Grecian  nose ;  the  other  actors  were  not  equal  to  her.  In 
the  third  act,  when  she  was  declaiming  the  grand  tirade,  her 
husband  wept,  and  when  it  was  over  he  could  not  resist 
going  up  and  kissing  her  before  twenty  persons,  who  all 
stared  at  him.  The  costumes  of  the  other  actors  were  rather 
in  Carnival  style.  That  Mme.  de  Latour  *  of  whom  I  spoke 
to  you  recites  well.  The  Achille  was  a  ridiculous  person 
who  caricatured  Lafond  with  a  snuff-colored  coat,  and  a  yel- 
low shawl  worn  as  drapery  over  his  trousers.  The  EripKile 
was  indifferent.  M.  de  Bernis,  son-in-law  to  the  Princess  de 
Rohan,  was  Agamemnon  ',  he  is  accustomed  to  recitation, 
but  he  is  stout,  wore  a  frock-coat  and  boots,  with  the  in- 
evitable shawl  over  his  shoulders,  and  held  the  play-book  in 
his  hand,  for  he  did  not  know  his  part.  All  this  took  place 
in  bright  sunshine  at  three  o'clock  ;  but  toward  lialf  past  four 
the  dinner-bells  began  to  ring,  and  the  family  of  the  Atrides 
and  ourselves  retired  to  dinner.  We  are  bidden  to  expect 
proverbs  this  evening.  As  talking  is  not  required  on  these 
occasions,  they  suit  me  ])erfectly.  I  can  hear  the  prepara- 
tions and  rehearsals  going  on,  and  the  discussion  of  the  cos- 
tumes ;  meanwhile  I  gargle  my  throat,  I  give  All^ert  his 
writing  lesson,  I  write  to  you,  and  this  evening  at  eight  I 
shall  go  to  witness  the  performances. 

*  Mme.  dc  Latour  was  by  birth  Mile.  Buffaut,  and  aunt  to  Mine.  Regnault. 


318  LETTERS   OF  MADAME  DE  REMUSAT. 


CXCYI. 

CHARLES   DE  KEMUSAT   TO  MME.    DE   REMUSAT,    AT   VICHY. 

Paris,  Tuesday,  July  24,  1813. 

I  RECEIVED  yonr  letter,  my  dear  mother,  with  as  much 
pleasure  as  surprise  to  find  you  so  zealous  in  the  fulfillment 
of  your  epistolary  duties.  Your  letter  is  a  volume^  and  that 
is  what  I  like.  I  do  not  think  Mine,  de  Grasse  quite  under- 
stood me.*  First  of  all,  if  I  said  you  were  too  clever  for  me,  I 
did  not  mean  that  your  conversation  was  too  lofty  or  too  se- 
rious ;  but  only  that  when  one  converses  M'ith  you,  and  that 
you  really  take  a  share  in  the  conversation,  you  ai-e  so  bril- 
liant and  so  original  in  your  \dews  that  it  is  difficult,  for  me 
especially,  to  follow  and  to  answer  you. 

Secondly,  I  want  your  advice  for  my  compositions  during 
these  holidays.  I  have  analyzed  in  vain ;  I  know  not 
whether  to  employ  the  synthetical  or  other  method.  The 
subject  is  Nature,  mankind  in  general,  persons  in  particular, 
the  conventions  and  relations  of  society,  and  literary  works. 
As  I  do  not  want  to  produce  a  folio  volume,  the  task  is  rather 
puzzling.  My  idea  is  this.  I  purpose  to  make,  at  once, 
notes,  more  or  less  confused  and  entangled,  of  my  present 
opinions  and  feelings,  which  date  only  from  yesterday,  and 
which  may  change  by  to-morrow.  I  purpose  to  relate  all  the 
variations  they  have  undergone,  whether  from  circumstance 
or  from  the  passage  of  time,  until  the  present  moment,  and 
thus  to  prepare  materials  for  a  serious  work,  which  I  shall 
write  several  years  hence.  It  will  be  a  history,  or  a  novel, 
as  you  please,  which  might  be  entitled,  "  Metamorphoses,  or 
Memoirs  of  a  Young  Man,  belonging  to  what  is  called  High 
Society,  from  his  Birth  until  the  Age  of  Twenty."  You  un- 
derstand that  it  would  contain  neither  adventures  nor  events  ; 

*  This  refers  to  a  letter  from  Mme.  de  Remusat  to  her  son,  which  will  be 
found  in  the  preface  to  the  "  Memoirs." 


FROM  CHARLES.  319 

for,  even  had  I  experienced  any,  they  would  have  to  be  sup- 
pressed. It  is  a  man's  ordinary  life,  especially  his  moral  life, 
that  I  should  try  to  depict,  and  the  various  w^ays  in  which  he 
is  influenced  by  his  family,  his  friends,  his  position,  and 
every  outward  circumstance. '  AV^hat  do  you  say  to  the  verb 
to  influence  f  It  is  in  fashion,  but  certainly  does  not  belong 
to  the  time  of  Louis  XIY.  To  return.  I  should,  therefore, 
begin  to  make  my  notes  at  once,  for  in  three  or  four  years' 
time,  not  only  will  my  ideas  be  changed,  not  only  shall  I  not 
think  then  as  I  think  now,  but  I  shall  not  even  be  able  to 
imagine  that  I  have  ever  thought  differently  to  what  I  shall 
then  think.  I  already  And  it  diflBcult  to  persuade  myself  that 
I  have  not  always  been  what  I  am  now  in  this  month  of  July, 
1813,  and  to  recollect  my  thoughts  during  the  years  that  are 
past.  The  question  is,  therefore,  pressing,  for  the  older  I 
grow,  the  more  do  these  recollections  fade  and  the  footsteps 
of  childhood  disappear.  What  think  you  of  my  j^roject  ?  I 
fancy  you  will  like  it.  M.  Fercoc  is  continually  exhorting 
us  to  write  a  treatise  on  imagination.  I  obey  him  literally, 
for  is  not  a  history  of  youth  a  treatise  on  imagination? 

I  am  certain  that  at  this  moment  you  are  saying  to  your- 
self, "  How  lucky  he  is !  What  a  lot  of  paper  he  will  have 
to  cover !  "  You  would  like  to  be  sixteen  and  to  do  as  much. 
But  listen  :  write  the  memoirs  of  a  mother ;  give  an  account 
of  the  manner  in  which,  as  years  pass  by,  her  feelings  toward 
her  son  and  her  feelings  concerning  him  become  altered. 
The  subject  is,  perhaps,  less  fertile  than  mine.  Never  mind  ; 
we  shall  be  working  at  the  same  time,  but  shall  tell  each 
other  nothing.  While  I  shall  be  describing  a  son  of  fifteen, 
you  will  be  describing  a  mother  of  thirty  ;  and  afterward  we 
will  compare  notes.  As  we  shall  necessarily  have  to  treat  of 
the  same  subject,  it  will  be  amusing  to  discover  the  different 
points  of  view  from  which  the  same  thing  will  have  presented 
itself  to  each  of  us.  Think  this  over,  and  give  me  a  categori- 
cal answer. 

To  come  now  to  the  histroical  part  of  my  letter.     Last 


320  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  REMUSAT. 

Friday  I  wrote  a  Greek  composition.  I  showed  it  both  to 
M.  de  Wailly  and  to  M.  Leclerc.  Neitlier  of  them  has  men- 
tioned it  to  me  since.  Yesterday,  from  eight  in  the  morning 
until  half  past  seven  in  the  evening,  I  was  on  a  straw  chair, 
trying  to  mount  Pegasus — that  is,  trying  to  compose  Latin 
verses.  I  wrote  forty-eight,  and,  unfortunately,  I  can  not 
call  them  short  and  good.  "We  are  doing  nothing  here,  abso- 
lutely nothing.  M.  Pottier,*  not  knowing  how  to  fill  up 
the  time,  spends  it  in  reading  "  Yert-Vert "  to  us,  w^iich  is 
not  a  very  laborious  occupation.  We  begin  our  competition 
of  themes  to-morrow,  and  philosophy  on  Friday.  After  that 
the  concours  is  over. 

Pray  return  as  soon  as  possible  to  relieve  papa  from  his 
celibacy,  for,  frankly,  whatever  you  may  say,  the  society  of 
Mme.  de  Grasse  is  not  enough  for  him.  My  aunt's  hus- 
band has  been  here  for  the  last  few  days ;  he  arrived  last 
Thursday,  and  ought  to  have  started  on  Monday — that  is, 
yesterday.  He  is  really  very  Avell,  and  I  hope  that  the 
waters  will  be  equally  beneficial  to  yon.  We  dined  with  my 
aunt  on  Sunday,  with  M.  Pasquier,  Mme.  Cheron,  and  Mme. 
de  Grasse,  and  there  was  plenty  of  talk.  We  began  dinner 
with  a  discussion,  which  has  lately  come  into  fashion.  It  is 
concerning  Mile.  Gosselin,  who,  so  far,  has  no  one  against 
her  but  my  aunt  and  Geoffrey.  In  vain  did  the  dear  baron, 
in  vain  did  my  uncle,  make  the  finest  speeches.  My  aunt 
was  adamant,  and  Mme.  Gardel  can  find  no  more  obstinate 
champion. t  Nor  was  this  all;  Mme.  Cheron,  M^ho  appa- 
rently is  no  great  judge  of  dancing,  and  who  was  inwardly 
groaning  at  not  having  said  a  w^ord  since  the  beginning  of  din- 
ner— i.  e.,  for  three  quarters  of  an  hour — suddenly  emerged 
from  silence  by  a  pompous  panegyric  on  Mile.  Leverd's  ad- 
mirable and  original  acting  in  "  Tartuffe  "  the  evening  before, 

*  M.  Pettier  taught  the  second  class. 

f  Mile.  Gosselin,  a  young  dancer  whom  GeoflFroy  called  dhossee,  was  at  that 
time  greatly  admired.     But  the  clmsicists  preferred  Mme.  Gardel. 


RELIEF  FROM  ALARM.  321 

and  on  her  superiority  over  her  enemy.*  Oh,  what  an  apple 
of  discord  !  My  aunt  exclaims ;  my  uncle  echoes  her,  vow- 
ing he  has  never  seen  either  one  or  the  other.  M.  Pasquier 
begs  and  entreats  that  such  a  chord  as  this  may  not  be  struck, 
and  pours  out  a  glass  of  water  for  my  aunt,  who  is  chok- 
ing. In  vain  does  my  father  wait  for  a  moment  of  silence, 
in  which  to  make  them  hear  reason,  while  I  hold  my  tongue 
and  say  to  myself,  "  Analyze,  analyze  !  "  But  there  was  no 
analyzing  it.  Mnie.  Cheron  misuses  all  her  words,  and  piles 
up  sopliisms  in  order  to  prove  the  greatest  of  sophisms,  viz., 
that  she  was  right.  However,  that  did  not  surprise  me. 
Only  imagine !  After  "  Tartuffe  "  she  went  to  see  two  farces 
at  the  Yari6tes,  and  after  that  she  is  ready  to  criticise  the 
actors  of  Moliere.  Elmire  submitted  to  the  censor  of  "  M. 
Dumollet'Mf  So  be  it.  Moreover,  without  this  I  should 
not  have  known  how  to  finish  my  letter,  and  you  must  ac- 
cept it,  such  as  it  is.     Adieu. 


CXCYII. 

TO   M.    DE   REMUSAT,    AT   P^VRIS. 

Vichy,  July  27,  1813. 
I  AM  breathing  again,  for  I  think  my  letters  of  yesterday 
must  have  relieved  you  all,  and  that,  after  reading  them,  the 
husband  and  the  wife  will  settle  down  to  their  occupations 
again,  saying  to  themselves,  "  The  poor  darling  has  suffered 
a  good  deal,  but  it  is  over  now !  She  is  well  again,  and  has 
gathered  up  her  courage.  Time  is  getting  on  ;  let  us  be  pa- 
tient, and  to  our  work  again."  And  every  one  sits  down, 
while  Mme.  de  Grasse  says :  "  Those  waters  are  too  strong  for 

*  The  enemy  was  Mile.  Mars,  whose  acting  was  at  that  time  always  com- 
pared with,  and  not  always  preferred  to,  that  of  Mile.  Leverd. 
\  A  vaudeville  by  Desangicrs  and  Gentil. 


322  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  R^JMUSAT. 

her ;  1  knew  tliej  would  be."  "  But  you  hear  what  her  doctor 
says  ;  he  believes  they  will  do  her  good."  "  Ah  !  that  is  be- 
cause he  wants  her  to  stay  at  Vichy."  "  Ah !  that  is  like  you, 
always  thinking  there  is  some  motive  besides  the  ostensible 
one."  "  Mon  Dieu  !  am  I  wrong  in  that  ?  Men  are  so  deceit- 
ful !  Why  should  not  that  man  tell  lies  as  well  as  another  ?  " 
"  You  mean,  why  should  he  not  be  mistaken  as  well  as  an- 
other ? "  "  Bah !  it  is  the  same  thing."  "  No,  to  deceive 
or  to  be  deceived  are  different  things."  "  Well,  but  did  I 
not  say  those  waters  would  do  her  harm  ?  "  Will  not  the  con- 
versation run  after  this  fashion  on  Tuesday,  amid  long  inter- 
vals of  silence  ? 

As  for  me,  I  passed  a  quiet  day  yesterday.  I  remained  in 
my  own  room  all  the  morning ;  it  was  positively  raining  in 
torrents.  I  worked  ;  I  wrote  to  Mme.  de  Yintimille ;  I  read 
a  little  of  La  Bruyere.  At  four  o'clock  I  paid  a  short  visit  to 
the  Count  and  Countess,  who  had  sent  me  an  invitation  to  din- 
ner, which  I  had  declined  on  the  score  of  health.  We  talked 
on  several  subjects,  the  musician  ^  among  others,  the  Count 
telling  me  he  thought  the  business  was  settled.  I  told  him  I 
was  "  glad  to  hear  it ;  that  he  and  his  family  were  deserving 
of  interest ;  that  as  for  him,  he  would  have  to  pay  dearly  for 
his  great  blundere ;  that  you  had  given  him  the  means  of  an 
honorable  livelihood  ;  that  tlie  desire  of  gaining  more,  and  of 
providing  for  extravagant  expenditure,  had  brought  him  into 
difficulties  and  occasioned  behavior  that  any  one  else  in  your 
place  would  have  found  it  hard  to  overlook,  but  that  we 
should  forget  such  things  in  presence  of  misfortune,  and  that 
this  is  what  you  had  done."  The  Count  replied  "  that  he 
knew  nothing  about  the  rights  of  the  business ;  that  Erard 
had  asked  him  to  befriend  his  son-in-law,  and  that,  therefore, 
he  had  done  so  ;  that  his  opponents  seemed  to  be  rather  ques- 
tionable people ;  that  the  poor  fellow  must  have  a  chance 
given  him  of  making  use  of  his  talents,"  etc.     After  this  we 

*  Spontini. 


MME.  DUCAYLA'S.  323 

talked  of  operas,  poems,  verses,  the  Institute,  etc.  For  the 
most  part  we  did  not  agree,  but  I  let  everything  slide  and 
took  nothing  up  seriously.  Every  now  and  then  I  paid  some 
little  compliment.  It  was  a  delightful  conversation,  without 
effusion  or  simplicity ;  each  of  us  saw  what  the  other  was 
going  to  say,  and  fell  in  with  it — at  least,  that  was  the  case 
with  me.  Afterward  I  returned  to  my  little  hermitage,  and 
at  eight  o'clock  I  went  to  Mme.  Ducayla's,  where  everybody 
assembled — the  Countess  and  the  other  members  of  society, 
Guelphs  and  Ghibellines.  There  was  music  and  work ;  I 
j^layed  a  game  of  whist.  The  evening  went  off  well,  and  at 
eight  o'clock  the  convent  was  shut  up. 

But,  oh !  what  beautiful  bits  I  read  of  Massillon  !  IIow 
delighted  I  am  with  La  Bruyere  !  How  full  of  thought  and 
knowledge  are  all  the  writers  of  those  times !  How  much  we 
may  learn  from  them  by  reading  them  slowly  and  with  atten- 
tion !  We  may  positively  converse  with  them ;  we  question 
them,  and  they  give  admirable  answers ;  in  their  turn  they 
ask  a  question,  but  we  can  not  reply  as  well  as  they,  espe- 
cially when  Bourdaloue  or  Massillon  is  the  questioner.  We 
stand  before  them  with  downcast  eyes,  begging  for  time, 
which  they  do  not  seem  much  inclined  to  grant. 

Mme.  Devalues  has  written  to  M.  de  Jaucourt,*  inform- 
ing him  of  her  son's  marriage  ;  he  is  deliglited,  I  assure  you. 
I  wrote  to  both  mother  and  son,  and  also  to  Countess  Rum- 
ford,  yesterday.  I  am  an  admirably  punctual  correspondent, 
and  keep  my  turn  with  a  great  many  persons.  Between  our- 
selves, I  do  not  always  find  it  very  amusing ;  but,  after  all, 
one  must  answer  letters  and  escape  a  scolding.  I  have  re- 
ceived a  somewhat  melancholy  letter  from  Corvisart.  Try 
and  show  him  some  mark  of  interest.  He  might  be  flattered 
by  your  calling  on  him.  Charles  amuses  me  very  much  ;  his 
letters  are  bright  and  gay,  and  sometimes  tender ;  but  so  soon 

*  M.  Devaincs  had  just  married  Mme.  Dillon  (Ilcuiiette  de  Meulan),  sister  to 
the  first  Mme.  Guizot. 


324  LETTERS  OF  MADAME  DE  R^MUSAT. 

as  he  perceives  that,  he  makes  a  joke  so  as  to  cut  sentiment 
short.  Pie  ended  a  letter  the  other  day  by  saying  that  "  he 
loved  me,  and  kissed  me  as —  "  then  he  hesitated  and  resumed, 
"  as  a  mother  kisses  her  child,"  saying  he  could  not  im- 
prove upon  that.  He  assures  me  I  shall  always  be  his  best 
friend  ;  in  fact,  he  wants  to  turn  my  head  altogether,  and  I 
am  afraid  he  will  succeed. 


THE   EJSD. 


WORKS  01  EREICH  HISTOEY. 


Memoirs  of  Madame  de  Remusat 

1802-1808.  Edited  by  her  Grandson,  Paul  de  Remusat,  Senator.  In  3  vols., 
paper  covers,  Svo,  $1.50.     Also,  in  1  vol.,  cloth,  12mo,  $2.00. 

"  Notwitlisfandiujj  the  enormous  library  of  works  relatinsj  to  Napoleon,  we  know  of 
none  which  cover  precisely  the  j,'round  of  these  Memoirs.  Madame  do  Kcmusat  was  not 
only  lady-in-waitin;,'  to  Josephine  during  the  eventful  years  1802-1808,  hut  was  her  intimate 
friend  and  trusted  confidant.  Thus  we  get  a  view  of  the  daily  life  of  Bonaparte  and  his 
wife,  and  the  terms  on  which  they  lived,  not  elsewhere  to  be  found." — New  York  Mail. 

"  These  Memoirs  are  not  only  a  repository  of  anecdotes  and  of  portraits  sketched  from 
life  by  a  keen-eyed,  quick-witted  woman  ;  some  of  the  author's  reflections  on  social  and 
political  questions  are  remarkable  for  weight  and  penetration."— JVew  York  Sun. 

Memoirs  of  Napoleon, 

His  Court  and  Family.     By  the  Duchess  d'Abrantks.     In  2  vols.,  12mo,  cloth, 

$3.00. 

The  interest  excited  in  the  first  Napoleon  and  his  Court  by  the  "  Memoirs  of  Madame 
de  Kcmusat"  has  induced  the  publishers  to  issue  the  famous  "  Memoirs  of  the  Duchess 
d'Abrantes,"  which  have  hitlierto  appeared  in  a  costly  octavo  edition,  in  a  much  cheaper 
form,  and  in  style  to  correspond  with  the  12mo  edition  of  De  Kemusat.  This  work  will 
be  likely  now  to  be  read  with  awakened  interest,  especially  as  it  presents  a  much  more 
favorable  portrait  of  the  great  Corsicau  than  that  limned  by  Madame  de  Kemusat. 

The  Frencfi  Revolutionary  Epoch. 

Being  a  History  of  France  from  the  Beginning  of  the  First  French  Revolution  to 
the  End  of  the  Second  Empire.  By  Henri  Van  Laun,  author  of  "  History 
of  French  Literature,"  etc.     In  2  vols.,  12mo.     Cloth,  $3.50. 

"  As  a  history  for  readers  who  are  not  disposed  to  make  an  exhaustive  study  of  the 
subject  treated,  the  book  impresses  us  as  eminently  (rood."— .Vew  York  Evening  Post.   ■ 

"This  work  throws  a  flood  of  li'.'ht  on  the  problems  which  are  now  perplexing  the 
politicians  and  statesmen  of  Europe."— A(ez<)  York  Daily  Graphic. 

'•  This  is  a  work  for  which  there  is  no  substitute  at  present  in  the  Entrlish  langua-'C. 
For  American  readers  it  may  be  said  to  have  secured  a  temporary  monopoly  of  a"^mo9t 
interesting  topic.    Educated  persons  can  scarcely  afford  to  neglect  \V—New  York  Sun. 

History  of  the  French  Revolution. 

By  Louis  AnoLPnE  Thikus.  4  vols.,  Svo.  Half  calf,  $16.00.  Cheap  edition. 
2  vols.,  Svo.     Cloth,  $5.00;  half  calf,  $10.00. 

History  of  France, 

From  the  Earliest  Times  to  1848.  By  Rev.  James  White,  author  of  "Eighteen 
Christian  Centuries."     Svo,  cloth,  $3.00. 


D.   APPLETON   &   CO.,   Publishers, 

1,  3,  &  5  Bond  Street,  New  York. 


IISCELLAIEOTJS  PUBLICATIONS. 

The  Land  of  Gilead. 

With  Excursions  in  the  Lebanon.     By  Laurence  Olifhant.     With  Illustrations 

and  Maps.     Crown  8vo,  cloth.     $2.00. 

"  nis  journeys  took  him  quite  off  the  beaten  tracks  of  tourists  and  archseological  ex- 
plorers ;  he  i;ot  an  '  inside  view,'  so  to  tall  it,  of  native  life  and  manners;  he  saw  some- 
thin?  of  the  wanderinj;  Bedouins;  and  we  know  of  no  recent  book  on  Palestine  which  is 
really  so  instructive,  trom  which  the  reader  can  derive  BO  large  a  fund  of  entertainment." 
—Eclectic  Magazine. 

Anecdotal  History  of  the  British  Parliament. 

From  the  Earliest  Periods  to  the  Present  Time,  with  Notices  of  Eminent  Parlia- 
mentary Men  and  Examples  of  their  Oratory.  Compiled  by  G.  H.  Jennings, 
Crown  8vo.     Clcth,  $2.50. 

"  As  pleasant  a  companion  for  the  leisure  hours  of  a  studious  and  thoughtful  man  as  any- 
thing in  book-shape  since  Selden."— Xondow  Telegraph. 

"  It  would  be  sheer  affectation  to  deny  the  fascination  exercised  by  the '  Anecdotal 
History  of  Parliament.'"— *Sa<Mrcfaj^  Review. 

Young  Ireland. 

A  Fragment  of  Irish  History,  1840-1850.     By  the  Hon.  Sir  Charles  Gatan  Duf- 

FT,  K.  C.  M.  G.     New  cheap  edition.     12mo,  cloth,  $1.50. 

"  Youns  Ireland  "  is  a  memoir  of  the  few  stormy  years  in  Ireland  during  which  O'Con- 
nell  was  tried  and  convicted  of  conspiracy,  and  Smith  O'Brien  tried  and  convicted  of 
hit;h  treason,  written  by  one  who  was  in  succession  the  fellow  prisoner  of  each  of  them, 
and  has  seen  since  a  remarkable  career  in  Australin.  The  book  is  founded  on  the  private 
corrcgipondence  of  the  leading  men  of  the  period,  and  throws  a  searching  light  on  the 
Irish  politics  of  the  present  day. 

"  Never  did  any  book  appear  so  opportunely.  But,  whenever  it  had  appeared,  with  so 
lucid  and  graphic  a  style,  so  larce  a  knowledge  of  the  Irish  question,  and  so  statesminlikc 
a  grasp  of  its  conditions,  it  would  have  been  a  book  of  great  mark."— Zondan  Spectator. 

A  History  of  Greece. 

From  the  Earliest  Times  to  the  Present.  By  T.  T.  Timatenis.  With  Maps  and 
Illustrations.     2  vols.,  12mo,  cloth,  $3.50. 

"  While  I  cheerfully  acknowledge  my  obligations  to  Gibbon  and  Grote— the  most  emi- 
nent of  modern  historians— a  careful  study  of  the  Greek  writers  has  led  me  to  differ  from 
them  on  many  important  matters.  The  peculiar  feature  of  the  present  work,  therefore,  is 
that  it  is  founded  on  Hellenic  sources.  I  have  not  hesitated  to  follow  the  Father  of  His- 
tory in  portrayins  the  heroism  and  the  sacrifices  of  the  Hellenes  in  their  first  war  for  in- 
dependence, nor,  in  delineatintr  the  character  of  that  epoch,  to  form  my  judgment  largely 
from  the  records  he  has  left  m^.""— Extract  from  Preface. 

History  of  Herodotus. 

An  English  Version,  edited,  with  Copious  Notes  and  Appendices,  by  George 
Rawuxson,  M.  a.  With  Maps  and  Illustrations.  New  edition.  In  four 
volumes,  Svo.     Vellum  cloth,  $8.00. 


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lISCELLilfEOUS  PTJBLICATIONS. 

New    Volumes    of   "  The    International    Scientific    Series." 

Sight : 

An  Exposition  of  the  rrinciples  of  Monocular  and  Binocular  Vision.     By  Joskpii 

Le   Conte,  LL.  D.,  author   of  "Elements   of    Geology,"   "Religion  and 

Science,"  and  Prqfessor  of  Geology  and  Natural  History  in  the  University 

of  California.     With  numerous  Illustrations.     12mo,  cloth,  $1.50. 

"  It  is  pleasant  to  flnd  an  American  book  which  can  rank  with  the  very  best  of  forelKU 
works  on  this  subject.  Professor  Le  Contc  has  long  been  known  as  an  orij,'inal  investiga- 
tor iu  this  department ;  all  that  he  gives  us  is  treated  with  a  master-hand.  —The  ^atwn. 

Animal  Life, 

As  affected  by  the  Natural  Conditions  of  Existence.  By  Karl  Semper,  Professor 
of  the  University  of  Wurzburg.  With  2  Maps  and  106  Woodcuts,  and 
Index.     12mo,  cloth,  $2.00. 

"It  appears  to  me  that,  of  all  the  properties  of  the  animal  organism,  Variability  is  that 
which  may  first  and  most  easily  be  traced  by  exact  investigation  to  its  efficient  causes  ; 
and  as  it  is  beyond  a  doubt  the  subject  around  which,  at  the  present  moment,  the  strife  ol 
opinions  is  most  violent,  it  is  that  which  will  be  most  likely  to  repay  the  trocblc  of  closer 
research.    I  have  endeavored  to  facilitate  this  task  so  far  as  in  me  lies."— J^'ww  tk^  Preface. 

"  This  is  in  many  respects  one  of  the  most  interesting  contributions  to  zoological 
literature  which  has  appeared  for  some  iimQ.''— Nature. 

Tiie  Atomic  Theory. 

By  Ap.  Wurtz,  Membre  de  I'Institut;  Doyen  Honoraire  de  la  Facultc  de  Medccine ; 

Professcur  i\  la  Faculte  des  Sciences  de  Paris.     Translated  by  E.  Clkmin- 

SHAW,  M.  A.,  F.  C.  8.,  F.  I.  C,  Assistant  Master  at  Sherborne  School.    12mo, 

cloth,  §1.50. 

"  There  was  need  for  a  book  like  this,  which  discusses  the  atomic  theory  both  in  its  his- 
toric evolution  and  in  its  present  form.  And  perhaps  no  man  of  this  age  could  have  beeu 
selected  so  able  to  perform  the  taak  in  a  masterly  way  as  the  illustrious  French  chemist, 
Adolph  Wurtz.  It  is  impossible  to  convey  to  the  reader,  in  a  notice  like  this,  any  adequate 
idea  of  the  scope,  Incld  instrnctlveness,  and  scientific  interest  of  Professor  Wurtz's  book. 
The  modern  problems  of  chemistry,  which  are  commonly  so  obscure  from  imperfect  ex- 
position, are  here  made  wonderfully  clear  and  attractive.'"— TVie  Popular  Science  Monthly. 


The  Power  of  l\/lovement  m  Plants. 

By  Ciiaui.es  D.vrwix,  LL.  D.,  F.  R.  S.,  assisted  by  Francis  Daraviv.    With  Illustra- 
tions.    12mo,  cloth,  .^2.00. 

"  Mr.  Darwin's  latest  study  of  plant-life  shows  no  abatement  of  his  power  of  work  or 
his  habits  of  fresli  and  oriirinal  observation.  We  have  learned  to  expect  from  him  at  inter- 
vals, never  much  prolonged,  the  results  of  special  research  in  some  by-path  or  other  sub- 
ordinated to  the  main  course  of  the  biological  system  associated  with  his  name  ;  and  it  has 
been  an  unfailing  source  of  interest  to  see  the  central  ideas  of  the  evolution  and  the  con- 
tinuity of  life  developed  in  detail  through  a  series  of  special  treatises,  each  wellnigh  ex- 
hanstire  of  the  materials  available  for  its  subject." — Saturday  Revieiv. 


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IISCELLAIEOTJS  PTIBLIOATIOIfS. 


The  New  Nobility. 

A  Story  of  Europe  and  America.     By  J.  W.  Forney,  author  of  "  Anecdotes  of 

Public  Men,"  etc.     12mo.     Cloth,  $1.50. 

"  Colonel  Forney  has  written  an  exceedingly  clever  and  entertaining  etory.  The  reader 
will  have  little  difficulty  in  surmising  the  import  of  its  title:  he  will  hardly  need  to  be  told 
that  the  members  of  the  new  nobility  are  those  able,  energetic,  dauntless,  and  self-made 
men  who  are  the  strength  and  glory  of  this  Republic.  The  dialogue  is  particularly  bright ; 
the  descriptions  of  European  life  are  vivid  and  truthful,  attesting  the  extensive  acquain- 
tance of  the  author  with  society  and  letters."  —FhUadelphia  North  American. 

Lady  Clara  de  Vere. 

A  Novelette.  From  the  German  of  Friedrich  Spielhagen.  Appletons'  "New 
Handy-Volume  Series."     18mo.     Paper,  25  cents. 

The  story  was  undoubtedly  suggested  by  Tennyson's  famous  poem,  "  Lady  Clara  Vere 
de  Vere." 

All  Alone. 

A  Novelette.  By  Andre  Theuriet,  author  of  "  Gerard's  Marriage,"  "  The  Two 
Barbels,"  etc.  Appletons' "  New  Handy-Volume  Series."  18mo.  Paper, 
25  cents. 

Mary  Marston. 

A  Novel.  By  George  MacDonald,  author  of  "  Robert  Falconer,"  "  Annals  of  a 
Quiet  Neighborhood,"  etc.     12mo.     Cloth,  $1.50. 

"The  merit  of  the  book  does  not  lie  in  the  plot,  but  in  its  thoughtful  observation  of  the 
world  we  live  in — what  it  is,  and  what  it  might  be.  'Mary  Marston '  is  a  fine  work,  which 
may  be  read  and  pondered  over  with  a  view  as  much  to  improvement  as  amusement. 
There  is  nothing  careless  or  slovenly  about  the  drawing  of  any  character,  nor  yet  about 
any  other  part  of  the  book.  The  author  is  evidently  too  thorough  to  send  his  work  forth 
to  the  world  in  a  condition  less  good  than  the  beet  he  can  make  it."— London  Spectator. 

Great  Singers. 

Second  Series.  Malibran — Schroder-Devriext — Grisi — Viardot — Persiani — 
Alboni — Jenny  Lind — Cruvelli — Titiens.  By  George  T.  Ferris,  author 
of  "  Great  Singers,"  First  Series,  "  The  Great  German  Composers,"  etc. 
Appletons' "New  Handy- Volume  Series."  18mo.  Paper,  30  cents;  cloth, 
60  cents. 


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IISCELLAIEOTJS  PTJBLICATIOlfS. 


Luke,  Gospel  History,  and  Acts  of  the  Apostles, 

With  Notes,  Critical,  Explanatory,  and  Practical.  Designed  for  both  Pastors  and 
People.     By  the  Rev.  Henry  Cowles,  D.  D.     12mo.     Cloth,  $2.00. 

Longer  Epistles  of  Paul  : 

Viz.,  Romans,  Couintiiians  I  and  II.  With  Notes,  Critical,  Explanatory,  and 
Practical.  Designed  for  both  Pastors  and  People.  By  the  Rev.  Henry 
Cowles,  D.D.     12mo.     Cloth,  s2.00. 

Divine  Guidance  : 

Memorial  of  Allen  W.  Dadge.  By  Gail  Hamilton.  With  Portrait.  12mo. 
Cloth,  SI. .50. 

The  Art  of  School  Management. 

A  Text-book  for  Normal  Schools  and  Normal  Institutes,  and  a  Reference-book 
for  Teachers,  School-officers,  and  Parents.  By  J.  Baldwin,  President  of 
the  State  Normal  School,  Kirksville,  Missouri.     12mo.     Cloth,  §1.50. 

The  Social  History  of  Flatbush, 

And  Manners  and  Customs  of  the  Dutch  Settlers  in  Kings  County.     By  Gertrude 

Lefferts  Vandeubilt.     12mo.     Cloth,  $2.00. 

"A  book  certain  to  be  relished  by  the  local  antiquarian,  and  perhaps  scarcely  leps 
interesting  to  the  o;eiieral  reader  in  i"ts  plain,  modest  way  than  is  the  'Kiiirkcrbocker 
History  of  New  York,'  has  been  lately  published  by  the  Applelons  under  the  title  of  '  The 
Social  History  of  Flatbush,'  by  Gertrude  Lefferts  Vanderbilt.  To  this  attempt  to  portray 
the  traditions,  customs,  and  manners  of  the  Dutch  settlers  on  Long  Island  during  the 
period  preceding  the  Revolutionary  War,  the  author  has  f.'iven  a  great  deal  of  industry, 
and  has  evinced  a  commendable  discretion  and  literary  faculty  iu  the  selection  and  arrange- 
ment of  her  materials.  She  has  made  a  substantial  contribution  to  our  knowledtrc  of  the 
social  and  domestic  life  of  a  not  unimportant  element  of  our  population,  as  it  was  charac- 
terized at  an  epoch  when  the  process  of  fusion  and  assimilation  was  hardly  more  than 
begun.  We  may  add  that  the  task  thus  undertaken  and  creditably  performed  could  not 
have  been  deferred  much  longer,  for  nearly  every  trace  of  Dutch  descent  in  Kings  County 
has  now  been  swept  away."— JVisw  York  Sun. 

The  Vision  of  Nimroo  : 

An  Oriental  Romance.      By  Charles  De  Kay,  author  of  "  Hesperus  and  other 

Poems."     12mo.     Cloth,  $1.50. 

"  There  is  no  half-hcartedness  about  this  young  American  poet.  He  goes  at  his  subject 
with  characteristic,  confidence.  Perhaps  tlie  boldest  venture,  however,  and  whicli,  for  its 
Intrinsic  value  will  attract  most  attention,  is  the  story  of  the  Vision  of  Abratn  at  the  Tarn 
of  Knf.  This  is  nothing  less  than  the  sight  in  a  Himalayan  Valley  of  the  evolution  of 
species,  the  'struggle  for  e.^istence,'  and  the  'survival  of  ilie  fittest,'  as  told  by  the  most 
modem  science.  It  is  a  powerful  piece  of  writing,  and  strikes  a  clear  note  for  the  poetry  of 
the  future."— Aew  York  IferaiU. 


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WORKS  ON  EI&LISH  HISTORY. 


The  Life  of  His  Royal  Highness  the  Prince  Consort. 

By  Sir  Theodore  Martin,  Fifth  and  concluding  volume.  1  vol.,  12mo.  Cloth, 
$2.00.     Vols.  I,  II,  III,  and  IV,  at  same  price  per  volume. 

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cceding  gcnerationa  of  her  Bons  and  da.U'j,htere,."— Blackwood. 

'•  Sir  Theodore  Martin  has  completed  his  work,  and  completed  it  in  a  manner  which 
has  fairly  entitled  him  to  the  honor  conferred  upon  him  on  its  conclusion.  It  is  well  done 
from  beginning  to  end." — Spectato?'. 

A  History  of  England 

In  the  Eighteenth  Century.  By  William  Edward  Hartpole  Lecky,  author  of 
"  History  of  the  Rise  and  Influence  of  the  Spirit  of  Rationalism  in  Europe,'' 
"History  of  European  Morals,  from  Augustus  to  Charlemagne,"  etc.  2 
vols.,  12mo.     Cloth,  $5.00. 

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does  so  engrossing  a  subject  with  so  vital  an  object.  .  .  .  We  say,  again,  that  Mr.  Lecky 
has  made  his  mark  upon  our  time  by  his  careful  and  fascinating  book."— iV«y  York  Times. 

History  of  England, 

From  the  Accession  of  James  II,  By  Lord  Macaclay,  New  and  standard  edi- 
tion.    With  Steel  Portrait.     5  vols.,  12mo.     Cloth,  extra,  per  set,  $5.00, 

The  English  Reformation : 

How  it  came  about,  and  why  we  should  uphold  it.  By  Cunningham  Geikie,  D.  D., 
author  of  "  The  Life  and  Words  of  Christ."  With  a  Preface  by  the  author 
for  the  American  edition.     12mo.     Cloth,  $2.00. 

"Dr.  Geikie's  work  sustains  the  reputation  which  his  '  Life  and  Words'  had  given  him 
as  a  clear  historical  writer.  It  is  impossible  to  comprehend  the  conflicts  for  spiritual 
liberty  of  the  present  without  tracing  them  back  to  their  origin  in  the  past;  and  there  is 
no  single  volume  which  will  better  enable  u?  to  do  this  than  Dr.  Geikie's  '  History  of  the 
English  Reformation.'  "— JV«?<;  York  Christian  Union. 

"  His  grouping  of  facts  is  often  masterly,  his  style  is  hold  and  incisive,  and  his  sketches 
of  eventful  periods  or  eminent  personages  are  vivid  and  graphic."— i^arper's  New  Monthly 
Magazine. 

Child's  History  of  England, 

By  Charles  Dickens,  Forming  a  volume  of  Chapman  &  Hall's  Household  Edi- 
tion of  Charles  Dickens's  Works.  With  Illustrations.  Paper  cover,  75 
cents;  cloth,  $1.25. 


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RELI&IOUS  WOEKS. 


The  Life  and  Words  of  Christ. 

By  Cunningham  Geikie,  D.  D.  A  new  and  cheap  edition,  printed  from  the  same 
stereotype  plates  as  the  fine  illustrated  edition.  Complete  in  1  vol.,  8vo, 
1,258  pages.     Cloth,  $1.50. 

This  is  the  only  cheap  edition  of  Geifcie's  Life  of  Chnst  that  contains  the  copious  notes 
of  the  author,  the  martjinal  leferences,  and  an  index.  In  its  present  form  it  is  a  marvel  of 
chcapuesB. 

'•A  work  of  the  highest  rank,  breathing  the  spirit  of  true  faith  in  Christ." — Dr.  Be- 
litzsch.,  the  Commentalor. 

"  A  most  valuable  addition  to  sacred  literature.''—^.  N.  LUd^ohn,  D.  I).,  Bishop 
of  Long  Island. 

"A  groat  and  noble  work,  rich  in  information,  eloquent  and  scholarly  in  style, 
earnestly  devout  in  feeling."— iinc/on  Literary  Wcrld. 


From  Death  into  Life ; 


Or,  Twenty  Years  of  My  Ministry.      By  the   Rev.   W.    Hasl.^m.      With   Illus- 
trations.    12mo.     Cloth,  $1.50. 

"  The  whole  narrative  is  unique— in  the  oritdn,  methods,  and  results  of  a  dispensation 
so  extraordinary— and  quite  worthy  the  study  of  Christian  ministers  in  all  chuiches, 
liturgical  or  non-liturgical." — Lutheran  Observer. 


Scotch  Sermons,  1880. 


By  Principal  Cairo — Rev.  J.  Cunningham,  D.  D.,  Rev.  D.  J.  Fergison,  B.  D., 
Professor  Wii.  Knight,  LL.  D.,  Rev.  W.  McIntosh,  D.  D.,  Rev.  W.  L. 
M'Faklan,  Rev.  Allan  Menzies,  B.  D.,  Rev.  T.  Nicoll,  Rev.  T.  Rain,  M.  A., 
Rev.  A.  Pemple,  B.  D.,  Rev.  J.  Stevenson,  Rev.  Patrick  Stevenson,  Rev. 
R.  H.  Story,  D.  D.     12mo.     Cloth,  81.25. 

This  volume  originated  in  the  wish  to  gather  tosrether  a  few  specimens  of  a  style  of 
teaching  which  increasingly  prevails  among  the  clergy  of  the  Scoltii?h  Church.  Its  publi- 
cation has  causefl  almost  as  much  commotion  in  the  Scotch  Church  as  "  Essays  and  Re- 
views "  did  in  the  Church  of  England  some  years  ago. 

"Perhaps  the  most  remarkable  book  on  religious  topics  in  the  year  past."— /SJpnnj/- 
Jl^ld  Republican. 

"By  its  publication  a  direct  cballens'e  has  been  given  to  the  Church,  which  must 
either  recognize  the  new  ideas  or  cast  them  out.  In  any  case  a  crisis  has  been  precipi- 
tated."—7'A«  Nation. 

Fifteen  Sermons, 

By  William  Roi,lis?on  Wiiittingham,  Fourth  Bishop  of  Maryland.  1  vol., 
12mo.     Cloth,  ?;l. 50. 

"The  late  Bishop  of  Maryland  destroyed  many  of  his  sermons  before  his  death.  It 
was  very  difllcult  to  make  a  selection  from  those  remaining,  but,  at  the  urgent,  repeated 
request  of  his  friends,  twelve  have  been  chosen,  and  three  already  published,  but  now 
out  of  print,  added  by  special  desire,  to  form  a  sinjilc  vohinie.  ...  It  was  thought  best 
to  inchide  as  many  on  general  topics  as  possible,  and  to  put  iu  none  strictly  doctrinal." — 
Extract  from  Preface. 


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NEW  BOOKS. 


The  Old  Testament  in  the  Jewish  Church : 

Twelve  Lectures  on  Biblical  Criticism,  with  Notes.     By  W.  Robertson  Smith, 

M.  A.,  recently  Professor  of  Hebrew  and  Exegesis  of  the  Old  Testament, 

Free  Church  College,  Aberdeen.     1  vol.,  12mo.     Cloth,  $1.75. 

Professor  Smith,  it  will  be  remembered,  wae  teacher  of  Hebrew  and  lecturer  on  He- 
brew literature  at  Aberdeen,  where  he  wae  deposed  by  the  Scotch  ecclesiastical  authori- 
ties for  alleged  heresies.  Tliis  action  was  only  needed  to  make  the  professor  exceedinjrly 
popular  with  the  laity,  influential  members  of  which  induced  him  to  deliver  at  Edinburgh 
and  Glas'gow  the  conr.<e  of  lectures  on  the  present  state  of  Biblical  criticism,  which  are 
now  put  in  book-form  to  reach  a  still  larger  circle  of  hearers. 

The  Fathers  of  the  Third  Century. 

By  the  Rev.  George  A.  Jackson.  Second  volume  of  the  "  Early  Christian  Lit- 
erature Primers,"  edited  by  Professor  George  Park  Fisher,  D.  D.  18mo. 
Cloth,  60  cents. 

The  "  Early  Christian  Literature  Primers  "  are  to  consist  of/oMr  volumes  :  "  The  Apoe- 
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Century";  "The  Post-Nicene  Greek  Fathers";  "The  Post-Nicene  Latin  Fathers." 
First  and  second  volumes  are  now  ready. 

Great  Violinists  and  Pianists. 

By  George  T.  Ferris.    Appletons'  "New  Handy-Volume  Series."    ISmo.    Paper, 

40  cents  ;  cloth,  60  cents. 

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Loukis  Laras : 

Reminiscences  of  a  Chiote  Merchant  during  the  Greek  War  of  Independence. 

From  the  modern  Greek  of  D.  Bikelas.     Appletons'  "New  Handy-Volume 

Scries."     Paper,  30  cents. 

This  fascinating  narrative  has  met  with  great  success  abroad,  translations  having  ap- 
peared in  French,  German,  Italian,  and  Spanish,  as  well  as  in  English.  It  is  a  simple  story 
of  the  adventures  and  vicissitudes  of  a  Chiote  merchant  and  his  family  during  the  Greek 
War  for  Independence,  written  in  a  singularly  felicitous  style,  and  afi'ording  a  striking  pict- 
ure of  the  suffering  of  the  Greeks  in  that  desperate  struggle. 

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AN  ANECDOTAL  HISTORY 

OF    TUE 

British   Parliainent, 

FROM    THE 

Earliest  Periods  to  the  Present  Time, 


WITH 

NOTICES    OF    EMINENT    PARLIAMENTARY   MEN    AND    EXAMPLES    OF 

THEIR   ORATORY 

COMPILED    FROM    AITIIENTIC    SOURCES, 

By  GEORGE   HENRY   JENNINGS. 


One  volume,  crown  8vo.    546  pages.       -       -       Price,  $2.50. 


CONTENTS 


PART  I.— Rise  and  Progress  of  Parliamentary  Institutions. 
PART  II.— Personal  Anecdotes:    Sir  Thomas  More  to  Marquis  of  Har- 
ting'ton. 

PART  III.— Miscellaneous. 

1.  Elections.     2.  Privilegre;    Exclusion  of  Strangers; 

Publication  of  Debates.    3.  Parliamentary  Usages,  etc. 

4.  Varieties. 
APPENDIX.— (A)  Lists  of  the  Parliaments  of  England  and  of  the  United 
Kingdom. 

(B)  Speakers  of  the  House  of  Commons. 

(C)  Prime    Ministers,    Lord    Chancellors,   and   Secretaries 

of  State  from  1715  to  1880. 


"Avoiding  at  once  the  formality  of  consecative  narrative  and  the  tcdiousneBS  of  ana- 
lytical description,  he  brings  together  in  anecdotal  form  the  more  striking  facts  in  the 
history  of  Parliament  and  in  the  public  lives  of  distinguished  statesmen,  arranging  tlie 
whole  in  such  a  way  as  to  give  a  compendious  view  of  the  growth  of  constitutional  liberty, 
and  of  the  code  of  unwritten  laws  and  customs  that  have  been  gradually  evolved  out  of  the 
chaos  of  Parliamentary  usages.  The  opening  section  contains  a  concise  account  of  the 
rise  and  progress  of  Parliamentary  institutions ;  then  come  the  personal  anecdotes  of 
eminent  Parliamei}tary  men,  with  numerous  examples  of  their  oratory;  and  then  comes 
a  striking  array  of  miscellaneous  anecdotes  about  elections,  bribery,  privilege,  the  publi- 
cation of  debates,  the  exclusion  of  strangers,  behavior  in  the  House,  and  other  matters  of 
a  similar  character.  Taken  as  a  whole,  the  book  furnishes  a  larger  amount  and  variety 
of  practically  useful  information  abont  the  British  Parliament,  its  history,  and  its  leading 
men,  than  anything  of  a  popular  character  that  has  been  written  on  the  subject;  and  the 
reader  will  obtain  from  it  an  unexpectedly  vivid  and  impressive  idea  of  the  life,  the  atmos- 
phere, and  the  tone  of  the  most  renowned  legislative  body  that  the  world  has  known."— 
AijpletoiiH^  Journal. 

"As  pleasant  a  companion  for  the  leisure  hours  of  a  studious  and  thoughtful  man  as 
anything  in  book-shape  since  Selden." — London  Telegi-aph. 

"Cotitains  a  great  deal  of  information  about  our  representative  system  in  pa^t  and 
present  times  which  it  behooves  all  persons  to  knov.'." — London  Daily  Neivs. 

"  It  wonid  be  sheer  affectation  to  deny  the  fascination  exercised  by  the  'Anecdotal  Ilis- 
tory  of  Parliament.'  "'—Saturday  Review. 

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in  Parliament." — Scotsman. 


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A   THOUSAND    FLASHES 

OF 

French  Wit,  Wisdom,  and  Wickedness. 

COLLECTED    AND    TRANSLATED 

By  J.   De  FINOD. 


One  volume,    16mo.      Cloth.      Price,   $1.00. 


This  work  consists  of  a  collection  of  wise  and  brilliant  sayings  from  French 
writers,  rnaking  a  rich  and  piquant  book  of  fresh  quotations. 


"It  is  the  quintessence  of  rich  minds  and  hearts." — N.  Y.  Evening  Telegram. 

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of  Voltaire,  Kousseau,  La  Rochefoucauld,  Mme.  de  Sevign^,  Mme.  de  Stael,  De 
Musset,  Victor  Hugo,  Sainte-Beuve,  Balzac,  George  Sand,  Alexandre  Dumas,  Sou- 
vestrc,  E.  de  Girardin,  Beranger,  Napoleon,  and  many  others  less  known." — Neio 
York  Era. 

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"  The  wickedness  is  much  the  larger  and  the  more  interesting  part  of  the 
book." — New  York  Evening  Express. 

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"  There  is  sometliing  here  from  every  French  author  and  statesman  of  any 
prominence." — Albany  Argus. 

"  A  very  attractive  volume." — New  Haven  Palladium. 


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